The Captive and the Cripple
by The Seamstress
Summary: A slightly AU where Tanaruz, the Moorish orphan girl Helga and Floki adopt, is a bit older and understandably not happy in her new surroundings. But then she meets Ivar, another outcast and the two begin an unexpected relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. _HI THERE! THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BUT I'VE BEEN A LONGTIME READER OF MANY AND WHEN I SAW THE EPISODE WHERE IVAR MEETS TANARUZ, I WISHED THE WRITERS HAD TAKEN THAT SOMEWHERE SO BADLY, I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT MYSELF. YOU MIGHT HAVE TO BE A BIT PATIENT SINCE THEY DO NOT SPEAK THE SAME LANGUAGE BUT JUST THINK JAIMIE AND AURELIA IN_** _ **LOVE ACTUALLY.** **OH AND OBVIOUSLY SHE DOES NOT STAB HELGA, I HATED THAT. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY AND PLEASE BE SURE TO SEND REVIEWS SINCE IT WILL BE THE FIRST FEEDBACK I'VE EVER GOTTEN ON ANYTHING. THANK YOU!**_

 **ps. this chapter might not be as fast passed as some of you might want but I wanted to establish what was going on in her mind since she had been taken. But Ivar will show up very soon and stir things up as he always does!**

Chapter One: The first week

It was so cold here. The temperature on the long journey gradually dropped from the pleasant and mild climate she was so familiar with, to an unforgiving chill. She was used to days being long and clear and the persistent sun warming the air. Now, in this bleak new land she's been taken to, the air is cold and only a damp mist can be found in the air. When she looks around at this new, foreign land her eyes only compare the images in front of her to those she clings to from her past life. Small things like weather were easier to focus on. The bigger ones were too painful.

In place of her airy and well-lit home she had grown up in, a dark almost windowless shack near the shore.

In place of her lightweight colorful smocks, thick heavy sweaters and shapeless dresses.

In place of her mother, with long, dark hair and skin the color of caramel, a stranger with braided hair, and skin so light, the likes of it Tanaruz had never seen.

The woman was nice enough she had to admit. After seeing the horror the Northmen had inflicted upon her people, the treatment from this woman was more than she could have hoped for. In fact, she had the feeling that this strange North-woman was trying to be a mother to her. When Tanaruz could find the effort to look at the fair skinned woman's face, she saw eyes with sadness in them. Her husband also bore the same look at times but mostly looked upon Tanaruz with pity and as if he was considering what to do with her.

They did their best for her, she could tell. They gave her warmer clothes, tried to feed her and make her acclimate to her new environment. But just when she started to give into their warmth, exhausted from fighting the cold environment and thoughts, she would remember her mother being slaughtered by these same Northmen and pull away again.

During the long grey days, the man would work on his boats outside the house on the shore, the woman would go about the household chores and bring her husband food and company. Tanaruz could not understand anything they said to each other but it was clear that they loved each other deeply and had created there own little world here on their little stretch of shore. That also made her wonder why they bothered with her. They didn't beat her or use her like a slave, in fact she spent most of the day sitting in a corner of the house. Her thoughts would orchestrate different ways she could escape from this grey land. But she didn't even know where she was exactly, she didn't speak the language of its people, the terrain looked too harsh to survive on her own in, and from the various animal pelts around the house, she knew there were too many fearsome animals in the surrounding areas. She decided it would be better to wait and learn about these people and the land more before she made a move to free herself.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a week now, she had counted seven days since the boat that had taken her away from her homeland and docked on the rocky beach of this new land. Seven days and she had already gathered a great deal of information on the couple that had taken her. By this point she was almost certain that the woman's name was Helga, since that was what her husband always shouted from outside when he needed something. She knew the words for a few things in the house and what the woman offered to her like, food, blankets and clothes. But she was always a quick learner and sitting idly gave her mind no choice but to absorb all of the information it could gather.

That is all she did with her days. She sat and observed. Sat and learned. Sat and planned.

The eighth day started like the seven before. She woke from her bundle of furs near the fire, and for a few blissful moments in the pleasant warmth she would forget where she was. Then it would all come rushing back to her; her mothers death, the horrifying Northmen, and her new surroundings. She sat and watched as Helga made breakfast. Her husband was sitting at the small table sketching more designs for his ships.

A shuffling noise came from beyond the door and broke the spell of daily routine. Tanaruz looked over in faint interest. The door swung open and for a moment she was confused. Expecting to see another tall and broad Northman, she was puzzled by a man on the ground crawling over the threshold and into the shack. She thought this might be some sort of Northman tradition, a sign of respect but the man made no move to lift himself into a seat and she quickly realized that this man was crippled. It came as no shock to her. She had known cripples back home but she did wonder why this one had nothing to help him move about. She watched as he crept toward the fire. The activity seemed strenuous and she wondered if he was a part of the raid that attacked her village, or any raid for that matter.

He sat and looked at her from across the fire. He said something to the couple and they exchanged a few more words Tanaruz could not understand. She looked at him more closely now and he looked as though he was around her age or maybe older, but his clear and bright blue eyes are what held her attention the most. She had never seen eyes that color before and they reminded her of the glass beads used to adorn veils back in her village. He met her eyes and before she knew it he reached his hand out to her. She was too startled to react quick enough and she felt his fingertips, warm and rough, close around her chin. He tiled her face towards the only window in the house and her brown eyes met his blue. She swam in the turquoise blue eyes for a moment but finally found her bearings and pulled her face free from his grip. She regretted it the moment after she did. She remembered what these Northmen were capable of and worried for a few heartbeats if he would punish her. Instead he said something to her in a deep voice but soothing tone and reached toward her again. Remembering her mother, and the Northman that cut her throat she scurried back and fell into Helga's arms. She was ushered away by Helga and looked back to see hurt in his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**I forgot to say I own nothing and that these great characters belong to Michael Hirst and the History channel.**

IVAR

Why did Floki have to live so damn far? Ivar had been making this trek to Floki and Helga's shack near the water since he was a boy and by this point he could make it there in the dark. But unlike his trips as a child, Ivar crept, not to receive his lessons in the Viking ways, but with a mission. He was going to ask Floki to make him something to carry him into battle. If there was anyone in Kattegat that could make such a revolutionary device, it was the master boatbuilder, Floki.

He reached the familiar wooden door and let himself in as he had done countless times before. Keeping his head down and his weight on his forearms, he brought himself up to the fire and focused on the only unfamiliar sight in the room.

The girl siting across from him was unlike anyone or anything he had ever seen.

She had hair so dark it almost bended in with the walls of the shack, and unlike the fine, straight blonde strands most Viking women had, this captivating stranger had thick, full wavy locks reaching well past her chest. Her skin was a rich, warm earthy color and her eyes were like two chips of amber staring back at him.

"Who is this?" he asked, not taking his eyes from hers.

To his surprise she held his gaze. Most people couldn't bear to look at him for too long.

"This is Tanaruz" said Helga, with clear affection.

It finally clicked in Ivar's mind where this enchanting apparition had come from.

"Ah, you brought her back from the raid of the Muslimen. Is she to be your slave?"

Helga shot Ivar with an expression he had never seen the usually amicable and tentative woman wear,

"She is not a slave!" She looked back at Tanaruz with affection and calmed down again and said, "We are adopting her as our child."

Ivar looked to Floki in confusion but saw that Floki was looking at Helga with an expression of sadness and pity. Like that of a father who can not afford to buy his child the toy he covets. Ivar sensed there was something he was missing but brought his attention back to the girl.

He found himself wanting to get a better look at the girl since she was so unlike any other Viking woman he knew and said,

"Well then, let's have a look."

He reached out and took her chin in his fingertips. Underneath his fingertips her skin felt as soft as the petals of a flower and almost just as delicate. He worried for a brief moment that his rough hands, so used to throwing knives and swinging swords, would rupture it somehow. Ivar was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed the spark of rage lit up her amber eyes a second before she tugged her chin free from his grasp.

His fingertips felt the loss immediately. It was like setting down a cup of warmed spiced ale on a cold night. He sympathized with another person for the first time as he looked into her hurt and furious eyes, and thought of how confused she must be in a new land with strange people that she could not communicate with or understand.

He then spoke to her in a voice much softer and more patient then he had ever used before, hoping that his tone would translate what his words couldn't and said,

"It's ok. I won't hurt you." and reached out to her again.

To his great disappointment, she scurried away from his grasp. His heart smarted from the pain of her running from him like so many women had before. Clearly it didn't matter where a person came from, the fear of cripples was universal. Helga ushered the girl away from the room and they exchanged one last look before she disappeared into the bedroom.

He turned to see Floki looking at him with a knowing and amused expression and he cleared his throat and remembered why he had come there in the first place.

"Floki, I need something."

"You mean to tell me you didn't drag you crippled ass over here just to see me?" said Floki touching his chest in mock offense.

The two men looked at each other in silence for a moment before breaking into laughter. When he finally composed himself Ivar said,

"I need something to carry me into battle and you are the only one in all of Kattagat with the skill to do it." Floki regarded him for a moment then said,

"You're right of course Ivar. And besides, I don't want to be the one carrying you into battle on my old back." The two men shared another laugh and Ivar wondered what everyone would think when they saw him in whatever Floki concocted. His brothers, who pitted him, his mother who smothered him, Marguerite who was disgusted and afraid of him, and the captive Tanaruz. Ivar wondered what look those amber eyes would have when she saw him.


	4. Chapter 4

TANARUZ

 _Who was that man?_

Clearly he could knew the couple well enough to just walk into their home without knocking. It dawned on her that she knew so little of the people and the place around her. If she wanted any hope of escaping she would need to learn more about where she was, how to speak the language, and the best way to leave this sunless grey place.

But to achieve all of this she would need to leave her corner of the shack and venture out into the village. But to suddenly walk out of the hut might make the couple nervous, thinking she had run away and they might restrict her access more and then all hope of leaving would be lost. No, she would have to first gain their trust. She looked over at Helga who was rubbing her arms in a soothing manner. She obviously thought that Tanaruz was traumatized by her encounter with the strange crippled boy just moments ago, but in truth Tanaruz was not afraid of him. Perhaps it was because he was crippled that she did not see him as one of the terrifying raiders that sacked her village. Or perhaps it was the gentle but firm way he touched her face and his blue eyes that kept her thoughts from being clear around him.  
She heard him laughing with the man before he finally left the shack. Helga led her back out to the fire and the man spent the next hour or so furiously making numerous attempts at sketching something out until he leaped up from his chair and swept out of the house calling Helga after him.

Tanaruz was left alone in the dark room and letting her curiosity get the better of her and picked up the various sketches the man had tossed onto the ground in frustration. It looked like different variations of a one person carriage, and in an instant it all made sense in her mind.

 _The crippled man wants something to carry him_.

Tanaruz thought of it did not look too different from the chariots she had seen the army use when they passed though her village. Of course the man could not stand in them like the soldiers did but with a clever seat built into it and strong horses tethered to the front of it, he would make a fearsome sight. She decided this would be her first attempt to gain the couples trust and she turned a page over and sketched the chariot as well as she could remember.  
She was putting the finishing touches on the plans when she heard the couple approaching the house. Fear overcame her as she worried that may not allow her to meddle with their things. They entered the doorway just as she was setting back into her place by the fire. Helga immediately started preparing supper and the man came back to his seat by the table. He noticed her sketch and looked at it in wonder. For a few heart stopping moments, Tanaruz watched him and waited to see how he would react. Suddenly he jumped in front of her and his large lanky frame backed her into a corner as he held the pice of paper in front of her face. He was asking her something with urgency and when Helga said something to try and calm him he finally pointed to her, mimed drawing with his free hand and pointed to the paper again.

 _He is asking if I drew it._

She saw no way of denying it so she tentatively nodded to him. He looked at her in disbelief for a moment before breaking out into a grin and before she knew it he had swept her up into his arms and swung her around in circles all while giggling. She could not help but laugh in shock at his being so pleased with her work and knew she had made a move in the right direction. He ran over to his wife and was gesticulating wildly and pointing to the paper and Tanaruz in excitement and the threesome spent the rest of the evening in good spirits and Tanaruz let herself enjoy the night, eating everything without argument and went to sleep with a full stomach and heart full of hope.

 ** _Two months later_**

Tanaruz took a big gulp of crisp morning air. She had grown better accustomed to the climate in the two months she had spent in Kattagat. She had also learned a great deal in that time.  
It all a started after that first week, she started helping Helga around the house with cooking and fabric weaving and even on some occasions helped Floki with building the chariot. She left the shack to gather plants with Helga and after two months they trusted her enough to allow her to leave the little private stretch of shore. She knew her housemates names and the village she was in and they taught her new words every day. At this point this point she would speak simple sentences and could understand others if they spoke slowly.  
On this particular morning, she was in the heart of the forest to pick some mushrooms Helga had had shown her many times before. She had finally found some growing at the base of a tree when she heard metal clanging and male grunts coming from somewhere to her left. Ever inquisitive, she crept toward the sound.

She crouched down behind a tree a couple of yards from the noise and peered over into a clearing. The clearing had been converted into a sort of small training ground with weapons and targets lying about the space. Within that space were four men in total with two standing on the outskirts and the other two men dueling but what caught Tanaruz's attention was that one of the men seemed to be seated on a stump while the other was on his feet. The man standing finally moved and the man on the stump came into her view. She almost gasped in shock when she recognized the crippled man from her first week in this country. She had not seen him in the two months since and she rippled with excitement she could not explain. Tanaruz was mesmerized by their fighting and could not tear her eyes away as he moved with a shocking mix of sheer strength and grace. She lacked a great knowledge of sword fighting but it was obvious to her that he was very talented despite his disability. If he had full use of his legs he would be a feared warrior. The sounds of his blows reverberated throughout the forest and she could almost feel the power and energy radiating off of his swings. The two men reached an impasse in their battle and for a few tense moments they held their swords to each others necks until finally laughing and lowering their swords. This broke Tanaruz out of her spell and she quickly and quietly put yards between her and the training ground. But all the way back to the house to see what else Helga needed, she could hear the ringing sounds of steel clashing and the image of the crippled man, with his blue eyes sharp with focus, played in the back of her mind.

 ** _Later that day_**

Ivar's heart beat wildly as he gripped onto Floki's shoulders. He had been waiting for Floki to finish building it for months, but he had really been waiting for this day his whole life. He was finally going to see what Floki had concocted for him in that brilliant mind of his.  
Floki carried him to a clearing near a well worn horse path in the forest and the invention came into view.  
"What is it?"  
"It's your legs, Ivar. It's your wings."  
Ivar crawled up the the one man carriage like a drowning man to land. He saw more than two horses and a wooden contraption. He saw himself riding into battle the way he had always dreamt of. Floki helped him into the seat and the second he took the reins into his hands he knew this moment was fated to be by the gods. He took off immediately at a breakneck speed and Ivar had never felt more free in his life. For the first time in his life he could forget that he was crippled but he felt like more than an ordinary man. Ivar had gone his whole life thinking that was all he wanted to feel like but with the power of the two horses tethered to his hands he felt like a man that could do great things. He finally decided to stop a few hours later after racing all of his brothers. He reigned up beside Floki and leapt into the man's arms.

"Floki you old bastard! You genius, you did it! I can not thank you enough."

"Actually it's not just me you need to thank."

"Of course, I must thank the gods for giving you such brilliant ideas!"

Floki giggled knowingly, "No no my dear Ivar. You must thank the gods that Helga chose to adopt the only Moor with the brains to come up with this."

Floki explained that the girl had drawn up the designs for his chariot and that she had even helped Floki construct it. Ivar was speechless. The Moorish girl, Tanaruz had been on his mind every day since he had first met her. He even found himself disinterested in Marguerite. But he had not returned to visit her since every time he felt the pull to go and look into her amber eyes again, he would remember how she scurried away from his touch.

But now with the knowledge that she had created it and helped Floki build it a spark of hope went off in his heart and he scrambled back into his chariot.

"Come on then Floki, I must thank her and I'll give you a ride back to your house as well."

"Well it's the least you could do after I've hauled your crippled arse around all these years."

They laughed and rode on. At his bracing speed they made it to Floki's shack in quick time and found a worried Helga waiting outside. She ran up to them and Ivar pulled the reigns in urgency, his stomach dropping at her worried expression.

"Whats wrong Helga?"

"It's Tanaruz she has been gone too long. I sent her for some water hours ago and she has not come back! Please you must find her it will be dark soon!"

Floki jumped out and got onto his own horse and Ivar took off on his new chariot. He made his way toward the only freshwater stream in Kattagat, cursing himself for riding his horses for too long and too hard that they were slower now. He knew what Viking men were capable of, he had seen men drag slaves into dark corners during festivals, seen what they do on raids, and he found himself fearing the worst. Even going into battle he did not feel this tightness in his chest, this panic that made his blood run cold.

He was so consumed with horrifying scenarios he almost missed the flash of dark hair on the banks of the river. Relief flooded though his body like strong ale and he pulled his horses to an abrupt stop. She was right near the secret house he had spent the night with Marguerite in and Ivar wondered if Tanaruz had discovered it. He got out of his chariot with some difficulty but made his way to her as fast as his arms would take him. He was going to yell at her for scaring the wits out of him, Helga and Floki until he caught full sight of her.

She was kneeling near the water, her dress sleeves pulled up past her elbows, washing her hands and forearms. There was something so tranquil about her movements it seemed as though even the water was in no hurry as it slid though her fingers and down her arms. He watched every rivulet and drop slide down her dusky skinned arms and watched with open mouthed awe as she got up only to kneel in a spot further from the water. She started chanting words in her language and alternated between kneeling upright on her knees and down on her forearms and palms. Ivar was absolutely captivated, gone was the shivering frightened girl he had met in the shack and in her place was this peaceful goddess that hypnotized him with her languid movements. His eyes trailed over the curves of her body as she bent forward and upright. It seemed that she was finally letting Helga feed her if the soft supple curves in her hips were a sign of anything. Ivar was so hypnotized by her steady rhythm and full figure he was jilted awake when she abruptly stopped. He dragged his eyes up from her womanly curves to her face, even more stunning in the soft twilight, looking at him with curiosity and apprehension. He found his bearings and crawled out of his hiding spot closer to her. To Ivar's delighted surprise she did not run from him or make any move to leave. He wondered how much she could understand and asked hesitantly, "Were you praying?"

She looked at him for a moment before saying, in a voice like smoke and water "Y-yes."

He was startled by the fact that she understood him and answered him back, but still spoke his words clearly and patiently.

"It is late." He said pointing to the darkening sky. She looked up and he was rewarded for his patience with her stunning profile as she blinked at the twilight.

"Helga and Floki are looking for you."

"L-l-look-ing?"

"Ah yes—um." Ivar placed his fingers over his brow and made a scanning motion over the river, if his brothers or anyone in Kattagat could see him now, patiently miming for a Moor, he would loose all credibility as an unpredictable and fierce fighter.

"Looking. Looking for you."

His actions were again rewarded as she made a small smile in understanding.

"Looking." she said.

Maybe it was her smile, or maybe it was the things her tongue and throat did to the "L" sound but Ivar thanked Odin and all the gods that he found her. Snapping out of his daze he realized that it was getting rather dark and motioned for her to follow him. He crawled back to his chariot and she followed him. When they reached it he turned to her and said, "Floki told me you helped him build this."

From the amazed look on her face it must have been the first time she had seen it completed as well, "Yes" she said, "I draw it for him."

"Thank you."

She looked at him in surprise at that and bowed her head down in modesty as he hauled himself into it. When he had settled in he realized the only way for her to journey back with him was if she sat in front of him while he held the reins. This made him apprehensive. He worried she would shy away again as she did the first time she met him. But instead he looked down to see her mind coming to the same conclusion he just did.

He held his arm out to help her in and her soft and small hand took his. He internally cursed his thick leather arm braces that kept his hands from fully touching her as he firmly gripped her hand to help her up then he succumbed to his baser temptations and laid his hand on her hip to guide her to the spot in front of him. His fingertips sank into the soft curves of her hip and to his surprise and elation she followed his guidance and settled those same hips in-between his two useless legs. His heart jumped and in an effort to calm himself down he gripped the reigns on either side of her arms and started the horses, disappointed that he could not slide one arm around her and have one arm on the reigns. However, the horses, so used to Ivar's breakneck speeds, took off without a warning and the motion sent her backwards until she was pressed up against his chest, the curve of the back of her neck fitting to the curve of his shoulder. His heart did not slow down and he was breathing heavily down her exposed neck. As they made their way back he blessed every bump and curve in the road as each one sent Tanaruz further into his arms and chest.

He wished the road back to Floki's was longer but far too soon they were back and an apoplectic Helga was running out of the door as Ivar stopped the horses. Tanaruz tentatively got up from her spot in-between his legs and to Ivar it felt like a blanket being ripped away on a cold morning. But she did accept his hand again to help her out of the chariot and they held on to each other a heartbeat longer after her shoes hit the ground before breaking apart. As Helga encircled her in her motherly arms and took her into the house Tanaruz looked back at Ivar one last time and in the fading light of the day, she made a small smile.

And on that ride back to his house with his brothers, Ivar really felt as though he was flying.


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING THE STORY! I ALSO WANT TO APOLOGIZE FOR ANY TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES IN THE LAST CHAPTER, I'M STILL GETTING USED TO THE SITE. I'M AFRAID I MIGHT HAVE TO SLOW DOWN WITH THE UPDATES SINCE I AM IN COLLEGE RIGHT NOW BUT I'LL AIM FOR MAYBE ONCE A WEEK, PROBABLY ON THE WEEKENDS, BUT I'LL BE WORKING ON THE NEXT CHAPTER TONIGHT AND WILL TRY TO GET AS MUCH DONE AS POSSIBLE. I WAS ALSO WONDERING IF YOU GUYS WOULD BE OK WITH ME TAKING THIS INTO M RATING TERRITORY, SO LET ME KNOW.**

TANARUZ

Helga was asking questions in such quick succession, Tanaruz couldn't answer any of them, but her mind was too distracted with the events of the last hour for her to answer anything. Helga finally calmed down a little and planted Tanaruz down next to the fire and went about getting her something to eat.

Tanaruz drew a blanket around her shoulders and remembered the man's lean arms on either side of hers. She was so wrapped up in her memory that Helga had to yell twice to get her attention.

"What?"

"I said where had you gone, Tanaruz? You even forgot to bring the buckets back."

"I was praying Helga. I am sorry."

Helga sighed and went back to cooking.

"And Ivar had to be the one to find you of all people."

"Ivar. The man?"

"Yes, that was Ivar Lothbrook. The cripple." Helga explained

"Cripple? What is cripple?" Tanaruz asked.

"You saw him, his legs do not work. It has been that way since he was born. But don't let that fool you, sweet girl. He is the son of our king and feared by everyone in Kattagat. They say he is crazy and a fierce warrior"

Tananruz looked away and stared into the flames.

 _So that's his name, Ivar._

She certainly did not expect to meet him in the forrest a second time in one day. She had gone to get some water as Helga had asked her to. There,she had come across a secluded house near the banks of the stream, but no one seemed to be living inside at the moment. She made note of this. The house would make for a convenient rest stop or hiding place when she fled. She already had a small stockpile of supplies hidden in a hollow log not too far from the stream. She thought of her homeland again and was struck by the realization that she had not prayed once since arriving in Kattagat. She had been so wrapped up in learning all she could that she had forgotten to pray. Muslims prayed up to five times a day and she was flooded with guilt that she had not prayed once. And if there was ever a time to resort to prayer, it was now.

Setting her buckets down, she knelt next to the water. She had to cleanse herself before appearing before her god and she fell back comfortably into the familiar ritual. She was in the midst of prayer when she morticed that someone was watching her. She first froze in fear but her heartbeat settled when she realized it was the man from earlier that day. His bright blue eyes were clouded in distraction until they met hers and he woke from his daze. He crawled over to her and asked, "Were you praying?"

Her body rang with excitement at the fact that they could finally converse with one another and she spoke in a shaky voice, "Y-yes."

He seemed surprised that she could understand him and panic quickly won over her previous feelings of excitement

 _You idiot girl! You cannot let these people know how much you really understand._

Tanaruz was always a quick learner and she had actually learned much more of the language than she let on. A lot more. But she was keeping most of her knowledge to herself for fear that a clever outlander might be looked at more closely. He spoke to her again in that deep voice and said, "Helga and Floki are looking for you."

She put her mask of ignorance on again and asked

"L-l-looking?"

He faltered for a moment before miming the word out to her. This display of patience was in such contrast to the aggressive warrior she had seen this morning in the training ground that despite everything she could not help but to lift the corners of her lips up in a small smile.

"Looking", she said. He seemed relieved he did not have to demonstrate anymore and he motioned for her to follow him.

She watched his powerful arms carry him to the dirt road and watched in wonder as he deftly moved over tree roots and fallen logs. She was amazed to think that he had been doing this all his life and she wondered what he would think of the chariot Floki was close to finishing.

As if an answer to her thoughts, the chariot came into view on the dirt road. She had not yet seen the finishing details that Floki had clearly added and stared in wonder at her drawing come to life.

Ivar noticed her looking and said,"Floki told me you helped him build this." She looked to the ground in modestly, afraid he would take it as an insult that a Moorish girl would have the audacity to create anything in a land not her own, for a man she did not know. But she could not help but feel proud that she had created something and said "Yes. I draw it for him"

To her elation and surprise he replied, "Thank you."

She was too stunned to answer as he made his way into the seat. She looked at the chariot and realized that she would have to sit in between his legs. She was afraid that he would remember how she scurried away from him the first time they met and punish her for it by making her run along side or dragging her behind.

Instead he did what he had done the first time they met. He reached his hand out to her. She tentatively took it and her small hand was dwarfed by his much larger one as he helped her up.

He shocked her again and made her chest tighten by placing a hand on her hips to guide her in front of him. She let his firm hand lead her and settled in. Her heart beat wildly as he his arms came around her and took the reins in front of her. She was tensing every muscle in her body to stay upright and not give in to the urge to lean into him, when suddenly the horses took off like the wind and she was thrust backwards, slamming into his broad chest. She was going to remove herself to be polite but the cold air and the motion of the horses kept her in place, and oddly enough she did not mind. The back of her neck settled against the curve of his shoulder and she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

Enclosed in his arms, pressed to his chest, and speeding through the misty twilight forest Tanaruz let her guard down for the first time since her village had been raided. Racing through the dark green trees she felt a spark of hope ignite in her chest and she was sad when they finally reached Floki and Helga's house. She got up from her place in front of him and it felt like stepping out of a warm bath.

Now, back in the shack having listened to Helga's description of Ivar she was only more shocked at his actions and treatment toward her today. _He came to find me._ Despite the way she flinched from him when they first met, despite the fact that he was feared by everyone, he had only treated her with kindness and she smiled to herself.

"Tanaruz?"

She snapped back to reality, "Yes?"

"I said we have to go into the village today. Queen Largatha is making a sacrifice to the gods tonight and everyone will be there."

Everyone, she thought. Everyone meant Ivar.


	6. Chapter 6

TANATUZ

It seemed these Northmen did everything with vigor and vivacity, as Tanaruz walked between Floki and Helga into the main square of Kattagat. The large crowds of people were laughing and and dancing with a passion that almost matched the one they fought with. She tugged at her clothes self consciously, Helga had made her a cream colored dress in the Viking style, gave her new shoes and even braided back the front parts of her hair on either side of her face and combed oil through her curls to make them shine. They joined the crowd and Tanaruz scanned the throngs of people to look for Ivar, but she realized she was getting some strange looks and decided to keep her head down. She needed to remember she was surrounded by the same people that killed her mother and raided her village.

She was not even sure what this ceremony was for. Helga said their queen was making a sacrifice to their gods but when she asked her what it was for, Helga hesitated and seemed reluctant to tell her.

Tanaruz looked to the center of the square where everyone else was looking and saw a raised platform with two logs standing upright in the middle. Standing between them was a shirtless young man with his arms outstretched to rest on both posts, and Tanaruz wondered what animal these Northmen used in their sacrifices and where it was waiting.

The crowed hushed as a line of people carrying torches lead a procession into the crowd and cleared the way for a woman in an ornate dress, gold paint on her face and an owl on her shoulder walked onto the platform. This was clearly the queen. She was handed a curved sword and turned to face the man.

 _Oh no._

Horror struck Tanaruz as she realized the sacrifice that night would be a human one.

She prayed she was wrong but they were left unanswered and her stomach turned as the queen chanted words that the crowd repeated and the ritual carried on. Then, the queen placed the tip of the sword to the center of the mans chest and slowly started to walk forward.

Tanaruz's breaths were coming in shallow and fast and she scanned the crowd in disbelief that any human creature could stand by and watch this horrifying display. Her eyes fell on Ivar standing between three other men around his age. Her heart sank when she saw that he was just as captivated as the rest of these Northmen.

 _Nothing is sacred to these people, they kill innocent villagers and sacrifice their own. They are all the same, even Ivar._

It was all suddenly too much for Tanaruz, the smoke from the torches made her head spin and this barbarous ritual only reminded her of the night they attacked her village. _I have to get away from this._ She took one last look back at Ivar only to find that he had noticed her as well and those blue eyes reflected the flickering torchlight as they met hers from across the square.

She rippled with disgust and anger at herself for thinking he was any different, and slipped behind Helga and Floki unnoticed. She wove herself through the crowd as quickly as she could without being noticed.

Just as she was about to break free from the crowd she stumbled slightly in her new shoes she was still getting used to and bumped into the shoulder of a Northman. She kept her head down and bowed her apologies when she saw the tattoo on the man's right hand. It was the head of a snake that wrapped around his thumb.

Suddenly time stopped moving for Tanaruz and her heart stood still.

She had seen this hand before. It was this thumb, with this tattoo she had seen wrapped around the hilt of a sword. The sword that slit her mother's throat.

She looked up into the tattooed face of the man that invaded her nightmares. She looked into the eyes that had looked upon her mother with no shred of mercy.

And those eyes stared back with recognition. The nightmare spoke.

"The girl from the little village."

With those words time started again and in a flash Tanaruz ran as fast as her dress would allow.

She ran with abandon, heading back the way she had come with Helga and Floki. She could hear his heavy footsteps behind her, and she desperately looked around for someone, anyone to help her but found only empty roads and alleys as everyone was at the ritual.

She could see the tree-line of the forest and her heart dared to hope that she could make it and loose him in the maze of trees. Just five yards from the forest she felt a jabbing pain hit the back of her right thigh. One moment she was running and the next she was on the ground.

She looked back to see a dagger sticking out of her leg and the nightmare a few yards back, kneeling from where he had thrown the dagger.

With no other choice and catalyzed by fear and anger, Tanaruz gritted her teeth and pulled the dagger out of the back of her thigh. She cried out in pain as blood ran down her leg and she scrambled to her feet clumsily. She held the dagger up, prepared to fight the nightmare knowing she didn't stand a chance against this tenured warrior, but enraged enough to go down fighting. All of her careful plans of escape fled her mind and she was ready to make her last stand here.

She was breathing heavily, every muscle in her body tensed and ready for the impeding fight when suddenly a great rattling noise like thunder came from behind the nightmare.

He turned to look behind him as horses narrowly missed his body, just as Ivar hurled himself out of the moving chariot and tackled the nightmare to the ground. The two men grappled with each other and Tanaruz was frozen in place. The nightmare produced another dagger and broke her out of her stupefied state. She made a move to help Ivar when he shouted at her in a voice so commanding and urgent it stopped her in her tracks,

"NO! NO, TANARUZ! RUN! RUN! Ahhhh! RUN TO THE RIVER!"

She hesitated for a moment more before deciding that staying would only make Ivar's act of bravery a waste and she took off the the forest as fast as her wounded legs could carry her.

 **A.N. I KNOW, I KNOW I'M EVIL FOR LEAVING YOU ON THIS CLIFFHANGER BUT HOPEFULLY THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL MAKE IT WORTH IT. SPOILER, IT MIGHT GET A LITTLE STEAMY. oh and for anyone wondering the nightmare that killed Tana's mom, is King Harald.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Run. Just run. He told you to run. Don't look back._

Branches tore at her arms and legs, her lungs felt like they would burst and her injured leg screamed in pain but Tanaruz limped as fast as she could.

Her heart leapt when she finally saw the river reflecting the moonlight. She took deep breaths and tried to clear her head.

 _I'm safe. I made it to the river. But what about Ivar? He might still be grappling with that monster this moment. He could even be dead. No. No. No. Don't think that. I've seen how he can fight. But there is no way he's making it out of that unscathed._

She remembered the packet of supplies she had been stockpiling and thanked god she had had the foresight to pack medical supplies in case she got hurt on the run. She scrambled over to the log she had hidden it in, and grabbed her forgotten buckets from earlier and moved toward the river. She was just kneeling down when Ivar and his chariot came crashing through the trees. She dropped everything and ran to him as a flood of relief coursed though her body.

 _He's alive._

Her relief was short lived as she approached him and before she could reach the chariot he fell out of the seat. He was clutching his chest with a bloody hand. He leaned on her support as she helped him from the chariot and she helped him into a sitting position as gracefully as she could. She knelt down next to him and asked him a series of rapid fire questions?

"ARE YOU HURT BADLY? HOW DID YOU KNOW TO COME HELP ME? WHY DID YOU COME TO HELP ME? IS THAT MAN…THAT.. THAT HORRIBLE MAN DEAD?

Ivar looked up at her with a puzzled expression. Tanaruz first thought he was so badly hurt he must be in shock and therefore confused by her many questions when it dawned on her.

 _So many questions. So many questions asked in complete sentences. He knows._

"It seems you learn quickly Tanaruz." He said, somehow finding humor in his weakened state. She took some more deep breaths.

 _Alright so he knows I was feigning ignorance but this is the least of my worries right now. I have to get us both patched up._

She looked around at their surroundings in dismay. She knew enough about healing to know that a dirty and dark river bank did not make for the best conditions.

"The house." Ivar said as if reading her thoughts, "There is a house hidden over there, its mine and my brothers." He pointed across from where they were sitting to the house Tanaruz had catalogued in her mind as a hideaway home.

 _That will work much better than this dirt ground, but how to get us there._

The river thinned into a slow and shallow stream and she saw a small raft tethered to a nearby tree.

She brought it up from the water and over to Ivar. He slid his body onto it and she dragged it over into the water. He floated across alone and once he made it to the other side he hoisted himself up onto the bank and tossed the rope over to her. She pulled the raft back over and placed the bucket and her medical supplies on with her.

The pair operated in companionable silence, focused and working in perfect unison. They made it through the door of the house and Ivar broke the silence,

"Fill the buckets with water, I'll light a fire."

They both moved to start their tasks and Tanaruz limped to the water. As she filled the buckets she had her first moments to clearly think since she arrived in the village that night.

 _He saved me. He attacked that monster. And that monster hurt him back. Yes, he was partaking in tonight's barbarous ritual like the rest of the savages but I have to help him now. I have to repay him for what he has done for me tonight._

She carried the two buckets, full to the brim with water, into the house and shut the door and the rest of the world closed.

The house was really only one large room and it was about the size of the front room of Helga and Floki's house. It had a hearth set up against the far back wall and in the center of the room a mattress set on the floor. Around the perimeter there was a shelf with blankets, pots and food, along with a large wooden tub. It certainly was not a grand home but now it was illuminated with a roaring fire that gave the small space a comfortable and cavelike presence.

Tanaruz turned her attention back to Ivar who was struggling to take his leather vest off with his injured hand. She mustered all of her bravery and knelt down next to him. He looked up at her in surprise but put up no protest when she started to gingerly remove his clothes.

She started with his arm braces, unbuckling them to reveal a deep gash on his left palm. She had to move a bit closer and so she straddled his outstretched legs but did not sit on them and knelt directly in front of him. She started to unlace his vest. He gazed at her face the whole time and it distracted her to the point where she struggled with the many laces of his vest.

His rough, bloodstained hands covered hers and stilled them. She looked up into his eyes.

"I know you want to say something. And I know you understand enough to know what I'm saying and how to answer me."

She hesitated a moment longer, but after going so long with constant monitoring of her behavior and speech the words seemed to flow out of her,

"He hurt you. He hurt you because you helped me. Because you saved me." she said all at once, "Thank you"

He looked at her, with those eyes like the clearest ocean, and said, "It was the least I could do for the woman that gave me my wings."

"Wings?"

"The carriage you invented. It will bring me to many places. It's what brought me to you tonight."

They stayed in this moment for a few heartbeats. His large hands atop hers that were resting on his chest. When she could feel the blood seeping through the leather and onto her hands she broke the moment and started unlacing him again, and Ivar settled his hands down on either side of her knees.

She removed the vest and uncovered a cut that ran from the top of his left shoulder to the center of his chest. All that was on the top part of his body now was his his cotton tunic shirt and suddenly all of her bravery left her as she realized she would have to undress him.

As if reading her thoughts again, Ivar lifted his hands to the bottom hem of his shirt and lifted it off of his torso, not breaking eye contact with Tanaruz. She tried to avert her eyes from the naked expanse of his chest and busied herself with dipping one of the rags she had in her supply bag, into the bucket of water set to the side of Ivar. As she turned sideways to go about this, she could feel his breath on her exposed neck and her chest tightened even more.

She turned back to his naked chest and tried to focus on his cut. She lightly wiped away the blood to get a better look at the wound and instead uncovered rippling muscles and she stared in awe of his well built torso.

From years of relying on his arms to do everything for him his arms and chest were sculpted by muscles that Tanaruz's fingertips glided over. Tanaruz had never realized how different male and female bodies were. Where her body was soft and curved, his was rigid and broad. Where her body had flat smooth panes, his had ridges and contours of muscle. She was so caught up in her curious and awestruck observation of his body that when she finally looked up into his face she saw her own nervous and excited expression reflected in his.

Ivar cleared his throat to relieve the tension and looked down from her eyes.

He jolted in shock underneath her and asked, "What is this?! Why did you not tell me you were hurt as well?!"

She looked down to see that he had noticed the stab wound on the back of her upper right leg.

 _Oh goodness. So much has happened tonight I almost forgot to tend to my own wounds._

She looked back at him and tried her best to adopt a calm tone, "It is fine. I will take care of it my self aft—"

Before she could finish he sentence Ivar had wrapped one of his arms around her waist and pushed the upper part of her body down until it was parallel to the floor, while her pelvis and the tops of her thighs laid across his lap.

"What are you doing?!" She asked when she recovered from her shock and she made a move to get back up but his powerful arms reached out to press down on the small of her back and pinned her down effortlessly.

"Let me take care of this first. A stab is more serious than a few scratches."

"Bu-"

"You can not help me at all if you bleed too much and faint"

The logic of his statement clicked in her mind and the effects of this wild night were starting to tire her out. She looked at him and finally nodded.

"See? I knew you were clever." He said grinning at his own joke. Suddenly his face got serious again and he nervously looked down at her legs that were covered by her blood-soaked dress.

"I have to lift up your dress to get to the wound, but do not be afraid, Tanaruz."

Her lugs contracted and her heart leapt and she was not sure if it was the prospect of Ivar lifting her dress or the way he had said her name. Either way she was in no state to try and make sounds come out of her mouth so she nodded again.

Ivar turned his attention back to her legs that were lying across his and with slow caution he took the hem of her dress into his hands and started to push the fabric up.

The fabric gathered in the wake of his hands as he moved slowly past her calves, the sensitive backs of her knees and he slowed his pace even more when he reached her thighs. He moved even more tentatively now and she shivered as she felt his fingertips slide over the back of her thighs until he he stopped right where her thighs met her buttocks. There he let the bunched up length of her dress rest as he assessed her injury.

He took another bundle of clean rags from her bag and soaked it in the water. Carefully he started to clean around the wound just as she had done with him. He came too close to it though and she flinched a little at the pain. He stopped and looked at her again

"It is alright. Everything will be alright."

She settled at little at his comforting words and they both looked at her wound.

It was located at the midway point between the top and bottom of her thigh and veered toward the outer side of her thigh so one could see it if they were looking at her profile. It was about an inch in length but felt much deeper.

Now that he knew what he was working with, Ivar fetched the sewing needle and thread from her pack. Before starting he looked at her again and placed a warm hand on the small of her back again in silent reassurance.

"I'll try to be quick"

And with that she felt the needle pierce the edges of the cut and she cried out and bit back the pain.

She gripped the rug beneath her and tried to focus on anything other than the sharp jabs of pain. She focused on his one free hand that was resting on her thigh in the space above her knee, the warmth and weight of it; she focused on the thin bones of his useless legs beneath her own but she found the best distraction was observing his profile.

From her spot on the floor she could look up and see his face with the same focused and intent expression she had seen him use when he was training in the forest.

His brow was furrowed in concentration and fingers moving with deft precision. She knew she should feel more afraid at this moment while there was a fierce Northman princeling attending to her wounds, but if she was being honest with herself she was more nervous about the fact that no man had ever seen past her ankles since she was a child. And yet there they were. Her legs, plain as day and laid out across his lap for his clear blue eyes to look upon all he wanted.

 _But he isn't doing anything untoward. In fact he could be working on an old man's wrist right now for all he knew._

She woke from her daze as he finished the last stitch. He reached into the bag and rifled around until he pulled out a small jar of the salve Helga used on Floki's many cuts he got from his carpentry.

With gentle and warm fingers he applied a generous amount of the salve over her cut and the skin surrounding it before covering the whole thing with a patch of fabric.

"Almost finished." He said.

Finally he grabbed more strips of cloth from the bag and all of the air left the room when he gripped the soft flesh of her injured thigh lifted it just enough to slide the strip underneath. As his large and rough hands glided over the inner side of her thighs and between them, Tanaruz felt a rush of heat flood her pelvis and her breathing became shallow.

Just when she though she could not handle the rush of emotions in her heart and heat in her entire body, he finally tied off the bandage in a knot and admired his work. He turned to her and extended his hand to help her back up to her previous position.

"Do you feel alright?"

Her eyes came level to his and she nodded.

"Thank you." she said staring into his eyes that were pleasantly illuminated by the roaring fire.

Now he was the speechless one and she spared them both the awkwardness and looked at the cuts on his chest and hand.

"Now let me help you."

"Ivar"

"What?"

My, name. You've never said it."

 _"….._ Let me help you…Ivar."

 **A.N. THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND REVIEWS! Hope I did not keep you guys waiting too long. I was going to wrap up this particular night between Ivar and Tana but it was already so long I felt I had to split it up so this will continue in the next chapter that you can expect this weekend. Thanks again!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Let me help you…Ivar"

 _Gods, at long last, I got to hear my name roll from the mouth of this goddess. If I die from this wound it will have been worth it to have just heard that._

Ivar snapped out of his stupor and was now acutely aware of the closeness of her body. She had straddled his legs again and reached to dampen another bandage in water. He swallowed and breathed heavily as her small warm hands took his large and rough ones, and delicately washed the cut on his hand. He watched her face, sharp with focus and lit up with the fire roaring behind him. He knew he needed to say something or his urges and desires would take over so clearing his through he asked, in a voice he hoped was steady,

"So you have learned our language. This is quite impressive you know, you have only been here for a little over two moons."

She finished cleaning his wound and applied a healthy amount of the salve to his wound.

"Yes. I did not have much else to do in the house but learn. Helga was always trying to get me to talk and from that I learned how to."

"I see. They let you leave the house though. That is how I saw you praying near the river. Speaking of which, I was wondering, why did you wash your hands and arms before praying?"

"To clean myself before I stood before my god"

"Seems like a demanding god", he said as she began to wrap his hand in strips of cloth.

"But he does not ask healthy young men to give up their lives, while an entire town watched."

This statement stopped him and he remembered the look on her face before she left the crowd at the ritual.

"It is tradition. He was giving up his life willingly."

"Yes, but why? What was it all for?"

"It was to bring good tidings to the upcoming journey to England."

"It was to bring you luck so you can raid and rape your way through another country like mine."

"It is our way of life, Tanaruz. There is no land here to farm. No land to expand our borders so we take the land we need."

"But why not do that peacefully?"

He chuckled at her naiveté and was reminded of how different her upbringing had been from his. Even as a cripple he was taught the Viking ways of life from a very young age and no one had ever asked the questions she was asking now. He had never thought of doing things peacefully, especially after the original settlement of farmers in England were slaughtered. Ivar looked into her deep amber eyes, flashing with the firelight and the passion of her convictions. He thought of the life she must have been living up until this moment and thought about how the Viking people must seem to her.

She was taken by two strangers after her village was raided, to a land she did not know, to live with people that did not speak her language. After living in isolation and loneliness for the better part of two months, she had to witness a ritual that must have seemed barbaric to her eyes, only to be chased down and stabbed by a Viking man. And even after all of that he was harsh with her when he held her down to stitch up her wound. He had never met anyone that he ever felt sorry for. Being a cripple he thought that his existence was the hardest one to bear, but looking into her confused and exhausted eyes his heart went out to her. He also had never felt thankful to another person but here she was, patching up his wounds with such gentleness and care. He lacked the courage and the adequate words to thank her so instead he resolved to make the remains of her night easier than the last few hours, to show her that her existence was not hopeless.

He took his injured hand from hers and that ended the silent stand-off as she began cleaning the cut on his chest. His throat sized up as she leaned closer to his chest and began cleaning the wound. The warmth emitting from her body and the faint tendrils of her breath that washed across the exposed skin of his collarbone, was an intoxicating mix and it was only the pain of the stitches that woke him from his daze.

She worked deftly but with a caring sort of gentleness. No one had ever handled Ivar this way.

Even when people carried him around from place to place with was with a brisk sort of efficiency. She had no real reason to treat him so well. Sure he might have saved her from King Harald but that was nothing against all of the things the Vikings had put her through. He was filtering though the various motives she might have when he realized she was finishing up with his wound. She had applied the balm sometime while he was lost in the depths of her eyes. Now Tanaruz took the longest bandage she could find and placed the end of it across his chest. She leaned even closer as she reached behind him to wrap the bandage around his back.

He couldn't fight it anymore.

Before she fully moved away he caught her waist in one of his arms and with the other he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and brought her lips to his in a searing kiss. Time stopped and his surroundings blurred as he poured all of his feelings for her into his kiss. He could have spent the rest of his life in this moment of bliss, nibbling on her plump and impossibly soft lips, gripping her hips and thighs loving the weight of her body on his lap but he felt her small hands give a gentle push against his chest and he reluctantly broke the kiss and time began again with a crash.

He looked into her shocked eyes and wished she did not look as delectable as she did in that moment. He fought to ignore her swollen lips and flushed cheeks as she panted in shock. Finally Ivar said,

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I— I uh— I just—" He took a deep breath looking into her eyes again and the rich brown color was like a horn of strong ale, forcing him to tell the truth,

"I could not fight it anymore."

She continued panting but did not move from his lap. He looked at her and hoped against hope that she understood what he was trying to tell her. He was trying to tell her that ever since he saw her, scared and confused in Helga and Floki's house, he was drawn to her. But after seeing her pray by the water he knew with a certainly that rang out in his bones, that he wanted her. He wanted to protect her, to shower her in all the things he always wanted to give the woman he loved.

They stayed motionless, panting and looking into each other's eyes, and Ivar's heart was gripped with fear he had never known, Finally, Tanaruz made an infinitesimal move closer. Ivar, not wanting to make any movements for fear of her stopping, fought every instinct and muscle in his body to remain still. Her glacial movements continued until her soft lips grazed his tentatively. Joy, relief and lust flooded Ivar's body and he fought his urges no longer and he deepened the kiss, tugging on her hair and gripping her hips. As amazing as it was it was not enough. His hands foraged and explored the expanses of her body as he rippled with pleasure at her own small warm hands on his chest and neck.

The smell and feel of her were intoxicating and all of it rushed to his head. He felt lightheaded and the edges of his senses started to dull and suddenly Tanaruz ripped herself from his grasp and held his head in both of her hands.

"Ivar! Ivar stop. Are you alright? Just for a moment stop. You are too weak from loosing so much blood."

Ivar realized it was not just her body and kisses that made him dizzy but in fact the blood loss and exhaustion of the day setting in. Even men in love had to answer to the natural order of things.

"You should sleep now." She said, and his heart soared even higher to know that someone cared about him. All his life he had seen wives and lovers worry about the small things, enough rest, enough food, and all his life he yearned for someone to care for him that way. She began to move him toward the mattress behind him and he dreaded the feeling of parting from her after what had just happened. He had spent too many nights sleeping in an empty bed and so as she was pulling a think wool blanket around him, he used his last bit of strength to grip her arms and pull her down into bed with him. She was stunned for a moment before settling her head onto the uninjured part of his chest and resting her hands on his stomach as his wrapped around the back of her head and rested atop her other hand on his stomach.

Ivar never remembered feeling so at peace. With the warm fire behind them, her soft warm body beside him, and his hand on hers he fell into the most pleasant sleep in his life, and never wished to wake.

A.N. **I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE BUT I HAD SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH THIS PAST WEEK. HELLO AND THANK YOU TO ALL OF THE NEW FOLLOWERS AND THANK YOU ALL AGAIN FOR THE KIND REVIEWS I'M SO INSPIRED AND BLOWN AWAY BY THEM!**

 **I WAS GOING TO START WRITING THIS CHAPTER WHEN I REALIZED I HAD NOT GIVEN IVAR'S ACCOUNT OF WHAT HAPPENED EARLIER THAT NIGHT. HOWEVER, HALF WAY THROUGH WRITING THAT I THOUGHT YOU GUYS MIGHT NOT EVEN BE INTERESTED IN IT SO JUST LET ME KNOW IF YOU GUYS WANT THAT CHAPTER AND I CAN FINISH IT AND POST IT. THANKS AGAIN, HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!**


	9. Chapter 7: Part II IVAR

**A.N. This is just a bit of a bonus chapter. Its the events of chapter 7 from Ivar's perspective, like I said I had started writing it so here it is. Consider it a thank you for the lovely reviews and for your patience between the last two chapters. Thank you all again and I'll see you (hopefully this weekend) for the next chapter!**

IVAR

"Keep up little brother, or you will miss all of the fun!"

Ivar never really liked celebrations since he always spent most of them sequestered to a chair in the corner. But tonight was different. Tonight Earl Jorgenson was to be offered up as a sacrifice to the gods to bring good tidings for the impending invasion of England. Ivar rippled with excitement as it always did when he was promised the sight of blood. The two things that always got his heart racing were fighting and experiencing the power of his gods. But recently, the presence of Tanaruz made him more excited than the other two combined. And tonight promised all three.

He and his brothers took their place near the stage as the rest of Kattegat flooded into the square. Ivar looked past all of the familiar faces for Tanaruz, but it seemed as though the square was struggling to accommodate the entire population of Kattegat as well as the newcomers that followed Largatha from Hedeby.

He was still trying to find her when the procession began and the Earl took his place. As the ceremony started and Ivar felt the sacred power of the ritual his senses dulled and he was captivated by the sight of a healthy young man like the Earl, willingly giving up his life for a raid of a country he would never see.

He was engrossed in the ritual when something across the way tugged at his senses. Like a faint pull on a fishing line his attention broke from the stage and drew him to a pair of amber eyes across the stage.

Time stopped as he took in the sight of Tanaruz. She was dressed in the traditional Viking garb for women but the clean cream color of her dress only made her olive skin more vibrant. Her inky tresses were braided back from her face and allowed the torchlight to reflect off her her high cheekbones and aquiline nose. She was dressed like every other woman in the crowd but Ivar felt she looked like an otherworldly goddess trying to blend in with the drab surroundings.

He was so enraptured by her beauty that he only just realized her amber eyes had anger and disgust in them when she suddenly slipped away and was swallowed by the crowd.

 _Why was she looking at me like that?_ He wondered and before he allowed himself the time to puzzle it out, he decided to find her and get the answer from her own mouth.

He crawled as fast as his arms would take him and wove his way out of the crowd, and he was grateful for once in his life that everyone in Kattegat was so afraid of him they instantly moved out of his path.

He finally made it to opposite side of the square where she would have exited the crowd and he only caught a flash of her hair as she shot down the road heading toward the forrest. He thought for a moment she was running from him until he saw a man chase after her.

In that moment, everything got colder and it was like all of the blood in his body stopped pumping and he could only see red.

Ivar was a man who had been known to severely injure men for minor slights but seeing some man run after Tanaruz filled him with an all consuming rage. He knew what Viking men were capable of and his heart writhed with the idea of another man laying so much as a finger on her dusky skin.

He sprung into action and thanked the gods he had docked his chariot to the stables at the beginning of the road, only a few feet away from him. He scrambled in and did not bother with strapping himself in properly and set his horses in motion down the dark road toward the forrest.

All of the usual feelings of freedom and joy that Ivar usually experienced on the chariot were replaced by a panicked feeling of urgency and he willed his already speedy horses to go even faster. He followed the man out of the village and just before Tanaruz made it into the woods the bastard stopped and threw a dagger from god knows were and hit her in the thigh.

Ivar's blood boiled but because the assailant stopped dead in his tracks to better his aim it gave Ivar the time to close in in him and just as the monster turned at the sound of his wheels, Ivar leapt from the side of the moving chariot and landed on the man with a crash.

He had just enough time before jumping to see that the man that was chancing Tanaruz was not just an ordinary Viking, but King Harald himself. This discovery had little bearing on Ivar's mind as he did not see a King that outranked his status, but instead, only saw a man that was after Tanaruz.

His instincts from the many years of grappling with his brothers took hold of his body and he grappled with King Harald until he saw the flash of yet another dagger and from the edges of his vision he could see Tanaruz limping over to try and help him. Ivar was running on pure adrenaline and instinct now and without even thinking he shouted to her, in a voice he only reserved for giving orders to fellow warriors,

"NO. NO, TANARUZ. RUN! RUN!"

With part of his attention on getting her away from danger, he failed to block a swipe from the King and he cried out as he felt the danger cut across his chest. But Ivar's mind was scrambling to think of a place she could be safe and since the whole town was enraptured in the ritual, they would provide no help to her, so his mouth blurted the only place he could think of that might help her hide until the monster he was wrestling with was vanquished.

"RUN TO THE RIVER!" He shouted with all of his might and his urgent tone must have worked because she finally turned and hobbled away and Ivar let himself be relived for a moment before focusing on the task at hand.

His upper body strength was far superior to that of a normal man, from so many years of reeling on them to do what his legs could not and Ivar used this to his advantage as he held the King and dagger at bay. Ivar made a move to grab the knife from the king but was instead rewarded with a cut across his palm. This only enraged him more and Ivar passed the injured hand across the eyes of the king, using the blood flooding out of his hand to blind the king and give him the moment he needed. In the split second it took for the king to try and clear his eyes, Ivar snatched the knife from his hands and buried it into the side of the kings neck.

As quickly as the energy of the fight broke out it suddenly ended and Ivar stayed that way for a few moments. He was still on top of the king's body, panting and listening to the blood rushing in his ears. He knew there would be consequences for killing a king, especially one with such a devoted brother but he decided to worry about that later Right now he needed to make sure that Tanaruz had made it to the river safely.

He crawled over to where his obedient horses had stopped in their tracks and clambered into his seat as best he set the horses in motion and followed the familiar path to the river.

He crashed though the trees and nearly unseated himself riding over roots and logs but he could only think of getting the river.

He strained to see anything in the dim moonlight but he could just make out the reflection of the river and he was dizzy with relief when he saw Tanaruz. She was standing in her white dress on the banks of the river lit only by moonlight and in that moment Ivar knew he had never seen anything so beautiful.

 _Gods she looks like a vision. Just the sight of her and I'm light headed._

He was stopping his horses and tried to climb out when he realized it was not the sight of her that made him dizzy but in fact his great loss of blood from his two wounds. Ivar was about to hit the ground when a pair of warm hands suddenly caught him. They struggled to put him into a sitting position and the second he was as close to comfortable as he could be in his injured state, Tanaruz launched into a series of questions,

"ARE YOU HURT BADLY? HOW DID YOU KNOW TO COME HELP ME? WHY DID YOU COME TO HELP ME? IS THAT MAN…THAT.. THAT HORRIBLE MAN DEAD?"

She could have slapped him across the face and that should have shocked him less than to see her ask so many questions in his language.

 _Clearly she knows much more than she let on. My goodness she looks the way that she does and was able to almost master a language in under three moons. But why hide such intelligence? Ah. Most people in Kattegat only see a Moorish slave girl when they look at her. If they found out that slave girl had such intelligence they would worry._

"It seems you learn quickly Tanaruz." He said wryly. From the shocked expression on her face it seemed she had just realized her misstep. She must have been carefully harboring this secret for some time and Ivar felt a pang of pity ring out in his chest for her. He knew her existence here was not an easy one but he now realized how much more lonely it must have been to draw an invisible line and always be on guard with everyone she encountered. They sat in silence until she looked at his wounds and then for a place to treat them. He remembered why he told her to run there and told her about the house. They worked in perfect unison and silent exhaustion to get them both over the stream. He found the strength to take the lead and direct her to get water as he mindlessly made a fire. She returned just as he was struggling to pull off his vest and suppressed him when she helped him out of it. Ivar was so captivated by the closeness of her body as she started to dampen a cloth to clean out his wound he did not at first notice the wound on the back of her thigh.

When he did however, his senses sharped at once and his strength returned in a moment.

"What is this?! Why did you not tell me you were hurt as well?!"

"It is fine. I will take care of it my self aft—"

 _Gods, for a woman so clearly intelligent, how did it seem logical to her to ignore such a serious wound._

He lacked the energy to fight with her and instead gripped her hips and pulled her body across her his lap. But as Ivar looked into her shocked expression he realized that he was treating her with the harsh soldier efficiency he had treated everyone with since childhood. His heart and eyes softened and he vowed to all the gods that he would treat her with a gentler hand…at least in comparison to how he usually treated people.

 _I can start now, she looks so frightened and she is badly hurt. And healing her is only going to hurt some more, that time I stabbed Hviserk in the arm he needed stitches._

He almost didn't trust himself to touch her knowing how his body and mind were reacting to being so close to her but this needed to be done.

"Let me take care of this first. A stab is more important than a few scratches." he said in the most reassuring voice he could muster. It must not have worked because Tanaruz began to argue,

"Bu—"

"You can not help me at all if you bleed to much and faint" he said, trying to appeal to her rational side and making it seem like she would really be the one doing him a favor.

This seemed to do the trick and he tried to lighten the mood,

"See? I knew you were clever." he grinned at her but all humor left his body when he looked at the blood soaking through her white dress.

"I have to lift up your dress to get to the wound, but do not be afraid, Tanaruz"

She made no protest and all of his tactile senses rushed to his fingertips as he slid her dress up over her legs.

Inch by inch he uncovered her honey colored calves, and her curvy thighs before ending right before her buttocks. Ivar focused on the wound to distract him from the other things his eyes wanted to wander to.

 _If I hadn't already killed that cunt of a king, I would vow to now._

Pure rage flowed through his body as he was cleaning the blood and he was so angry he was careless with her wound and Tanaruz's body flinched. The rage immediately left his body and he said

"It is alright. Everything will be alright."

 _Focus, fool! What would it say to her if she got hurt being healed too?_

Before Ivar started the stitches he dared to reach a hand out to rest on the small of her back and hoped she could sense the reassurance he was trying to convey.

"I'll try to be quick"

He reverted back to his knowledge of wounds from the many times he and his brothers had had to patch each other up and worked as swiftly and effectively as he could. When he finished he found a pot of the purifying salve in her little medicine pack and applied a coat to her wound and the warm smooth skin surrounding it.

"Almost finished."

This is the part Ivar would have to show the most restraint. He would have to wrap her leg up in bandages and that required lifting and touching her shapely thighs. He mustered all of his strength and warped his hands around her thigh as gently as he could.

 _God's why did you see it fit to give someone such soft thighs. Soft and plump not like the hard muscular legs of viking women. Oh Odin help me, my hands are in-between her legs now. Alright enough before you do something scandalous._

He pulled her dress back down and helped her back up.

"Do you feel alright?"

She looked at him with those stunning eyes and Ivar could not believe that they could be just as erotic as her thighs. She nodded and said,

"Thank you."

He was speechless. No one had ever thanked him for anything before in his life, because he had never done anything for anyone to ever warrant it.

"Now let me help you."

 _Forgive me gods. I know this is all wrong. I should not care this much about some foreign girl, but by the blood in my body, I must hear that voice say my name. Just once._

 _"_ Ivar"

"What?"

"My name. You've never said it"

Time stopped and he waited in anticipation looking into those remarkable eyes.

"….Let me help you….Ivar"

 _It is even better than I could have imagined._


	10. Chapter 9

TANARUZ

The voices were hushed.

Lying here in his arms with her head on his chest, the logical and vengeful voices, that for the past two months had sharpened her senses with anxiety, fear and anger, flew from her mind.

She thought back to the moment the voices were silenced.

The moment Ivar pressed her body to his and kissed her.

He kissed her with the urgency of a dying man. He ran his hands over her body with the curiosity and wonder of a blind man. The two created an intoxicating mix and for the first time since her village was attacked, her mind was not thinking of escape.

His husky, lust-laced voice made her feel too many emotions and escape was the last thing on her mind. His roaming hands made her feel that she was both free and vulnerable at the same time. It made her feel both safe and afraid, excited but shy and for the first time in her life someones' touch made her feel beautiful.

Ivar's hands, lips and gaze made her feel like a sacred deity.

Tanaruz wondered if he must see the same emotions in her eyes, for her hands trailed over his perfectly sculpted chest with the such fanatic reverence, if she were in a sane state of mind she would have been ashamed.

But lying with her body curled up against his side she felt no shame at all. All of the voices that would have told her to walk away: to run away, to fear this northman, to reject his touch and his kiss, to reject the hands and lips of someone from the same society as those that ravaged her village and killed her mother were silenced.

His touch created an irresistible current and it dragged her deeper into its depths.

She looked at his sleeping face, his brow not furrowed with pain, worry or concentration. He looked so different, so peaceful. She looked at him and she did not see a fierce warrior, a barbaric Northman or a prince. She only saw the face of a young man her age that made her forget her name when he kissed her, touched her, or even said her name.

Her hand that was under his and resting on his chest, rose and fell with every deep, sleep- steady breath he took. When he almost fell over earlier she felt a sharp splinter of worry pierce her heart. She stayed awake as long as she could, making sure he was still breathing. She was exhausted from the many developments that had occurred in the last three hours but she was used to not sleeping much since nightmares and paranoia usually kept her awake. The voices would always come at night and keep her from sleep.

But the steady motion of his breathing, the warmth of his hard body, and the safety she felt in his arms lulled her to sleep, and for the first time in two months she slept without hate, sorrow and worry in her heart, and the voices were hushed.

IVAR

The early rays of sunlight and the warm body curled against his side woke Ivar the next morning.

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments allowing himself time to just feel.

Feel the soft curves of Tanaruz's body press against his hard ones. Feel her steady breathing wisp across his neck and collarbone. Feel how small her hand on his chest felt underneath his.

Finally the urge to look upon her sleeping face won over and he carefully opened his eyes, afraid that any change in the scene would break the peaceful spell cast from the night before. His turquoise eyes looked down at her face, pressed to the right side of his chest, between his neck and collarbone. Her inky black tresses splayed out across his arm. Her sleeping face was unlined with distrust and fear.

He replayed the events of last night in his mind. The feel of her body on his lap, the curves of her hips and thighs that were pliant and plush in his grip, and her lips that brought him to a sacred place.

These thoughts made him aware of the stiffness growing below his waist, and Ivar had to look down to be sure he was not still dreaming. After his disastrous night with Marguerite he figured that he would never be able to have any intimate relations with a woman. He was baffled for a moment until he remembered how disgusted Marguerite had seemed when he approached her and he was so full of nerves that night, it was no wonder his body did not respond the way it was meant to.

But with Tanaruz, all through last night and this morning, Ivar could forget that he was a cripple. He felt like an ordinary man, waking up with stiff desire for his lover lying next to him.

He carefully placed the hand that was behind her on the middle section of her back, not wanting to wake her but also not able to resist the urge to touch her lush body,

His eyes adored every inch of her and even the furs and her dress could not cover the obvious curves of her body.

 _Gods, she's like a flower in full bloom, saturated with color, soft and delicate to the touch, and rounded in all the right places. Beside her the women of Kattagat seem like pieces of brittle driftwood. Pale, thin and hard._

 _I need to savor this. There will be so many problems to face when we leave this house. The king I killed. Explaining where Tanaruz was all night to Helga. Explaining where I was to my brothers. But for now I am just a man gazing at the sleeping face of the woman I love._

 **A.N. hi guys! thank you all again for the wonderful comments they mean so much for me and keep me going! I hope you guys enjoyed the bonus chapter and this one as well since it is sort of a short but very tender chapter, now on to the morning after!**


	11. Chapter 10

TANARUZ

An unfamiliar, but very pleasant warmth woke her the next morning.

Tanaruz had grown accustomed to the brisk and unforgiving mornings in Kattegat but the warmth surrounding her had a weight to it, unlike the heat from a fire or fur blanket.

Then like a flash of lightning she remembered where she was. And who she was with. She slowly opened her eyes. They looked out over Ivar's naked chest, rippling with muscle, and his bandaged wound. Her hand on his chest was still underneath his, just as they had fallen asleep, but the hand wrapped around her back and resting on the curve of her waist was new. And so was the tingle and heat between her thighs.

But her moments of peaceful, still contentment were short lived. The events of last night came rushing back to her mind. Of course the night ended on a very lovely note, but the differences in her surroundings only reminded her that Helga and Floki must have thought the worst when she disappeared during the ritual. And the worst almost did happen to her if it hadn't been for Ivar. He never did answer her when she asked if he killed the Nightmare that stabbed her and cut him, but either way it would be something for them to deal with. Then there was the matter of where to go from here.

She had to rethink everything now. Before last night, everything she did, every action she made was for the sole purpose of escaping. But now, lying in Ivar's arms she found that she could not think of her plans with the same clarity.

 _Do I still want to escape this place? Could I leave him? Could I leave Helga and Floki? What if last night did not mean as much to Ivar as it did to me? No, I can not believe that. His touch told me too much, and it never once told me that I did not matter. But even if I do matter to this man, that does not change the fact that I need to think of how to move forward. Oh this is too much to think of. Alright. Deep breath you foolish girl. Just focus on what you need to do right now, right this moment._

She very slowly and reluctantly started to remove herself from Ivar's arms, but as she was sliding her hand out from under his, he grasped her hand tighter and held it to his chest. She gasped in surprise and looked up to see the depths of his ocean eyes gazing into hers.

"In a hurry to get away from me?" he said, in a voice lazy and deep from sleep that made her blood quiver.

"No! no I was going to water your horses and see what food you had here.", she answered in rush looking down for a moment before looking back to him smiling softly at her. Before she could fully enjoy that, he suddenly brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"I know what food we have here, I will see to breakfast."

She tried her best to hide her shock and nodded slowly. She rose and left the warmth of the bed and his presence. She grabbed the buckets that they had used the night before and waked out the front door.

The horses had stayed on the other side of the stream where Ivar had left them and Tanaruz marveled at their obedience. She might have helped create the chariot but the horses were another innovation entirely. She brought herself over to them in the raft and filled up both buckets before bringing them to the beasts mouths.

She stroked their heads and silently thanked them for bringing Ivar to her as quickly as they did last night.

When they finished drinking she crossed the river and returned to the house. She walked in to find Ivar really did know his way around the supplies in the house, he was stirring a pot of what looked like boiling oats over the fire and turned when he heard her enter.

"Ah, good, it is almost ready, you can get the bowls. They are on the bottom shelf over there."

She nodded and found the small carved wooden bowls resting in the bottom shelf. She grabbed two of the four, two spoons and looked around at the other supplies they had.

She saw jars of spices and honey, baskets of vegetables, beans and oats, jugs of oil and drinking water, and even some wild berries.

She took the jar of honey down and the bowl of dried berries over to the fire.

Ivar took the bowls from her hands and spooned out portions into both. Tanaruz added the berries and drizzled the honey over both bowls. They sat cross-legged in front of the fire and started eating in comfortable silence.

The oats were cooked perfectly and Tanaruz was surprised a Northman could cook, and a prince at that. Floki might be able able to build amazing boats and chariots, but Helga did all of the cooking.

"This is good. Who taught you to cook? Your mother?" she asked.

Ivar chuckled, "My mother has never cooked a meal in her life. My brothers and I live together but they usually spend the nights out with women, so I had to learn to make breakfast for myself."

" I see." she said quietly. " _they usually spend the nights out with women"_ he had said, but then that would mean that he is not as promiscuous as his brothers. She felt a wave of relief pass over her for some inexplicable reason.

"The honey and berries are a good idea though. Does Helga make you help with the cooking?"

"Oh no, no. She did not let me do anything for a long time, I think she wanted to make sure that I did not feel like a slave."

Ivar smiled at that, "Do you like them? Floki and Helga?"

Tanaruz thought for a moment before answering "Yes. They are good people. They treated me much better than they had to."

He nodded in understanding and set his finished bowl aside, "They are good people. I practically see them as my aunt and uncle."

"Have you known them long?" she asked finishing her bowl of oats.

"Oh yes, my whole life. Floki was my teacher as a boy."

She nodded and they rested in silence for a moment unsure of what to say or do. She averted his eyes and noticed his bandages were almost completely soaked through with blood.

"I should change your bandages."

He looked down at his chest and cleared his throat before nodding. She gathered all of the materials and started to remove the old bandage. For some reason she felt the need to talk, for words to fill the void.

"So what did Floki teach you?"

"They ways of our people, the myths and legends of our gods."

"Right, the same gods that had you all gathered to sacrifice a young man last night."

"Ah. This again. Alright then Tanaruz, tell me about your gods. The very civilized ones that do not even let their believers come before them until they have washed themselves."

She had to smile a bit at that when she saw the laughter in his eyes and the teasing tone in his voice.

They spent the next few hours leaning against the wall beside the fireplace exchanging stories of their cultures. She told him about her muslim traditions and customs, but avoided the subject of her family since it was too painful still, and he tried to better explain rituals like the one they witnessed the other night. Talking with him was surprisingly easy. She figured because they were so different they would have nothing to talk about, but it was actually the opposite. She silently thanked herself for her determination to learn his language so quickly, she could not imagine what torture it would be if she could not communicate with him. It was hard enough having to keep herself from asking him harder questions, like how it was growing up crippled in a warrior society and where they would go from here. She also had to keep herself from reaching out to be in his arms, to cling to him and press her face into his broad chest, to not touch the corners of his mouth every time he laughed, to not smile as much as she wanted to for fear of looking like a lunatic.

"So that ritual last night was to bring good luck on a raid?"

"Yes."

"To a place called En…England?"

"Yes."

"….are you going on this raid?" she asked tentatively.

His face got serious and he answered, "It is to avenge the death of my father, Tanaruz. I must go."

"But killing more people just because they killed your father will not change the fact that he is dead."

"But he can rest knowing he has been avenged. What if someone killed your parents? Wound you not want…" He stopped abruptly realizing what he had just said. They looked away from each other.

"Tanaruz…I…I am—"

"I cannot."

He looked at her in surprise "You cannot what?"

"I cannot avenge the man the man that killed my mother because he is already dead." she turned and looked him in the eye "You killed him last night."

He let this revelation soak in for a moment and remailer silent until she said,

"At least I assumed that you killed him. Did you?"

He nodded. "I did."

"You killed him without knowing what he had done wrong—"

"He was going to kill you. That is all I knew"

She was touched and stunned by this news.

"And for that I am grateful. But…But will you be punished in some way for it?"

"Well, usually this sort of thing would work itself out but that man, that bastard, happened to be a king."

Tanaruz gasped, the reality she had been fighting since Ivar kissed her last night was bleeding into their paradise in this little house

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, and that reminds me, I should probably go handle that situation. And you should put Helga and Floki out of their misery."

She sighed and nodded her head and looked down at her hands. She was reluctant to leave, here she could forget her situation for a few blissful moments. She could forget that she was little more than a captive in a foreign land, she could forget that her home was gone, that her mother was dead. Here she could just lie in the warm comfort of Ivar's presence and remember what it is like to be a young girl, attracted and drawn to the touch of a handsome man. She wanted to feel that just once more before she faced the reality outside these walls. She mustered all of her bravery and moved toward him. He watched her but made no move or sound as she gently parted his legs that were spread out in front of him and settled her self into the space between them. She leaned back so her back was to his chest and he instantly wrapped his arms around her stomach and she rested her hands on top of his. He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close.

"We will see to all of that. We will get up and go back to explain ourselves", she said.

"But just not right now."


	12. Chapter 11

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

Tanaruz flinched and looked down in shame as Helga set off on a rant about how worried she and Floki were when they could not find her after the ritual. Tanaruz was glad that she and Ivar had decided to come back as soon as possible but she was already starting to feel the loss of his presence after a night of being so close to him.

They drew out leaving the house in the forest as long as they could, not only because they had to move slower due to their injuries, but also because inside the small house they could be alone together and shut out the rest of the world, and all of its problems and pain. Ivar slowly made his way into the chariot and when he offered his hand to help her up, she took it with no hesitation. Just like the cool morning air that brushed across their faces, it was refreshing to finally move past the barriers and settle into his arms and chest. Tanaruz smiled to herself as he picked up the reins and decided to enjoy the last few moments she would have with him before they had to return to their respective realities.

As the horses shot off Ivar slowly placed one of the reins into her hands, she was confused at first but he then wrapped his newly freed hand around her waist and she understood. They rode through the forrest, guiding the horses in tandem and basked in the presence of each other.

When they came closer to the beach where Helga and Floki lived, Ivar slowed the horses to a trot and spoke to her, the deep timber of his voice radiating against the shell of her ear,

"I don't want to leave you."

She closed her eyes for a moment as the aftershocks of his voice rang out over her body and turned her head slightly so his mouth was at her temple and her eyes on his shoulder

"I don't want to either."

"I have to see you again. Will you meet me?"

She nodded, afraid to open her mouth for fear of all of her emotions coming out at once.

"Meet me tonight at the river. Slip away when you can, I'll be waiting."

The house came into sight and a frantic Helga came rushing out. She grabbed Tanaruz by her arms, shot Ivar a scornful look and dragged her inside of the house.

"ARE YOU LISTENING?"

Tanaruz looked up and nodded. Helga took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment in an attempt to calm down,

"So tell me what happened again."

Tanaruz retold the story she and Ivar had agreed upon this morning while they were cleaning and packing their things

"I told you. I felt very sick from the ritual and left for a moment, I wanted to get some fresh air and water so I walked to the forest but I must have fainted along the way and hurt my leg. That is where Ivar found me and he took me to a house in the forrest that he and his brothers share. He only took me there to rest…not…nothing else."

"Oh gods why Ivar? Why is it always Ivar that finds you? Is he also the one that taught you to speak our language so well?"

Tanaruz's face shot up and looked into the knowing eyes of Helga.

 _You fool! You got too comfortable with Ivar, you forgot to put the mask on again!_

"No. I learn from you and Floki."

Helga considered this for a moment and must have decided there were bigger issues at hand since she drooped the subject promptly and set off on another tirade

"I do not like you spending so much time with him! It is not a good thing that you have caught his eye! It only puts you in more danger!"

"Danger?" Tanaruz asked, If anything Ivar had only ever been there to get her _out_ of danger.

"Yes danger! He is the most dangerous man in Kattegat! He is too unpredictable, not like other men. I am serious Tanaruz. He went after that one slave, Marguerite in crazy lust! He killed a little boy when he was just six years old."

Tanaruz gasped.

 _What? How can the same man that stitched up my leg with such gentleness have done that?_

She also tried to not feel too keenly the sharp pang of jealousy at the mention of another girl. She took a deep breath an gathered her composure.

"He only tried to help me Helga, I promise."

Helga sniffled and held herself tightly

"All night I thought….I thought that maybe you had run away."

In an instant all thoughts of jealousy were lost and Tanaruz only felt a deep guilt at senselessly worrying this poor woman, a woman that had treated her much better than she needed to.

"I mean…do you…. do you like it here, Tanaruz? I know that we took you against your will, and it must have felt very lonely and frightening for you but… but when you finally started to eat and help out around the house I thought…I thought maybe you had grown to like it here."

She started to really sob now and Tanaruz jumped up to hold the woman that had treated her like a daughter. She started to cry as well as she thought of all the kindness Helga and Floki had shown her. They could have been like many other Northmen and used her as a slave or worse, but instead they treated her like a daughter and Tanaruz was still convinced there was something in Helga's past that broke a part of her and lead her to take Tanaruz in, to try and heal it.

"I do like it here. You and Floki have treated me well."

They looked into each others eyes, glassy with tears and laughed softly.

 _At least I know this if I don't know anything else. I know that I have grown to love this woman and her husband. But what about Ivar? Are those things true? Who exactly did I spend the night with?_

IVAR

Ivar crawled at a slow pace, trying to make as little noise as possible in the hope that he could avoid answering his brothers questions.

As he slowly swung open the door, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the wave of cheers and laughs that erupted from inside.

"Our brother returns as a man!"

His efforts were of no use. Ube, Hvizerk, and Segurd were all waiting for him around the fire with boyish, knowing grins on their faces.

"So Ivar," said Ube "Aren't you going to tell us all about where and _who_ you spent the night with?"

"Who says I spent the night with anyone?",he replied. He wanted to keep Tanaruz and their night together in the special secluded place he had created in his heart, not let it get sullied by everything on the outside of it.

"Oh come now dear brother," said Hvizerk "you expect us to believe that you and the little slave girl Floki and Helga adopted just happened to go missing on the same night?"

 _Damn it. Damn this small village._

"What can I say, brother? Odd things happen." Ivar said

"Oh we know. It was odd enough that you might have finally found a girl that did not find you terrifying or pitiful," sneered Segurd, "But last night, King Harald was found dead."

"Dead?", Ivar asked. He usually would have no problem owing up to killing someone but with Tanauz to think of he thought it best to heep the both of them away from this crime.

"Yes. His brother, Halfdan found his body near the woods. Someone had stabbed him though the neck."

"I see. A horrible way to die no doubt but at least he will go to Valhalla." Ivar said trying to sound as casual as possible and reaching for a piece of bread.

"Ah, what are you bringing that up for Segurd?" Ube asked losing interest in the conversation quickly, "Halfdan thinks it was some Earl or his wife that killed him."

"What?" Ivar asked, very interested and relieved at the same time.

"Oh yeah. Turns out King Harold was in love with some woman his whole life and that is why he was so determined to rule all of Denmark. But she married some other earl while he was away."

"Mmm," said Hvizerk, mouth full of breakfast, "so now Halfdan thinks that the King must have threatened the earl, said he would steal his wife or something, and so the earl, took the chance to kill him while everyone was at the funeral."

"I see." said Ivar thanking all of the gods for this wonderful turn of fate that protected both him and Tanaruz. "So what is keeping him from killing this earl and his wife?"

"Oh you know Vikings," said Ube "Always like to sit back and savor revenge. He is probably planning to do something during the invasion of England."

"Although why King Harald got so worked up over some woman is beyond me." said Segurd

Ivar remained quiet as they all started telling bawdy stories and swearing that women were not worth the effort of revenge or murder.

 _Fools every one of them. I've always thought this, even as a boy but now I really do know that these idiots do not know a single thing. The right woman is worth everything._

But the mention of the invasion of England made Ivar think again about Tanaruz and their discussion about it last night. He would never be able to tear himself from her side after last night. The thought of leaving her for months, years on end was abhorrent to him. He saw the way the other men of Kattagat looked at her last night. There was no way he could leave her. But he knew she was against him going and raiding in England, she was against the whole idea of Viking people going to raid anywhere.

 _But this is different. This time it is to conquer not just pillage. We will start a new settlement there and live with the Englishmen. I'll have to think of something, some way and talk to her tonight. I cannot go to England or any other place without her. Tonight can not get here soon enough._

 **A.N: Hi guys I'm so sorry that this chapter is a bit late, a bit short and not all that exciting but I needed to set up everything for the next few chapters, and bring Ivar and Tana back to the reality of the situation, and just like them, don't we all hate when they aren't together? Thank you all again for following and leaving kind reviews to the story! See you all next weekend with a new chapter!**


	13. Chapter 12

TANARUZ

She tossed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Tanaruz lay in her warm nest of furs and gazed into the fire. Since dinner had ended, and Floki and Helga had gone to bed, she had been distracted with thoughts of Ivar. She turned over every memory in her mind trying to find any signs, any indications that he was this monster Helga described.

 _He killed a boy when he was six?! How can that be? He was so gentle last night. Comforting me when I was wounded. He even saved me from getting more than a wound._

She nestled deeper into her blankets trying to get comfortable, but her distracted mind and the lack of the comfort she had the night before, kept her from any peace. All of the furs in Kattegat could not replace the feeling of serenity and warmth she felt sleeping beside Ivar.

 _Should I even go to him tonight? Perhaps it was all an elaborate trick to gain my trust and then kill me._

But even as she let that thought pass through her mind, it lacked the rational ground in her heart to take root. She could not explain it but she knew in her gut that he did not mean to harm her. It was one of the few things she knew for certain about her new living circumstances.

 _I have to see him again. After everything that happened last night, I owe it to him to at least go there to thank him. And there I can decide what to do next._

She heaved a heavy sigh and closed her eyes against the glare of the warm fire. Tanaruz replayed the events of last night in her mind.

His heated breath on her neck, his rough and strong hands on her hips and thighs, his lips that crashed against hers and the way he nibbled on her lower lip. His deep breathless voice that gasped out the words, "I can not fight it anymore."

The warmth of the fire,the exhaustion of the day, and these hypnotic memories lulled her into a a drowsy dreamlike state.

Suddenly, Floki's loud snoring woke her and she jolted back to reality. She sat up, this was what she had been waiting for all night, and quickly she moved out of the house, timing each of her movements with the rhythm of Floki's snores to mask her sounds.

She made it out of the front door and looked into the dark woods. The moon was almost full and it provided all of the light she needed. Tanaruz took a deep breath and steeled her resolve to get to the bottom of things with Ivar and walked into the forest.

IVAR

Ivar took a deep breath of the nighttime forest air. He hated most things about Kattegat but he could not deny that it's landscape was beautiful.

Ivar's hometown had thick forests, jagged mountains and icy rivers all beautiful in their own right. But for all their beauty, they were barren. Not anything like the fertile, rolling green hills he saw in England with his father.

That is where people could start real lives. Where they did not have to worry so much about fighting, hunting and farming and make real progress. They could learn to read and write.

There, a person could become more than a warrior or a farmer or a king. They could find other professions and pursue other ways of life.

Growing up as a cripple, Ivar had to work harder to find his place among a society that invested so much value on a man's physical abilities. And all of that work made him the warrior he was, and his fathers' blood made him ambitious. But things were different now.

Just three months ago, Ivar's greatest ambition in life was to conquer as much of the world as possible. To conquer more lands and reach more fame than his father ever had.

But after meeting Tanaruz, these ambitions did not hold the same luster. They seemed empty especially after seeing the end that his father met in England.

 _Legends die just like other men. Worse even, in most cases. And conquering countries cannot feel as good as Tanaruz's skin in my hands. Gods I need to see her again. I need to look into those brown eyes._

He smiled to himself as he made his way to the tree-line of the forrest.

He cursed his brothers for taking what seemed like an eternity to get drunk and run off to the houses of their paramour's tonight. By the time they finally did leave, Segurd was thoroughly intoxicated and had even gotten into a small rift with Ivar. The brothers had always had animosity between them, but that night Segurd's drunkenness and Ivar's impatience to meet Tanaruz only added to the long-standing feud.

Not wanting to make his brothers suspicious of his behavior, Ivar tried to act as natural as possible. He knew that if they found out that he had developed feelings for Tanaruz, they would use it against him. Especially Segurd.

This particular fight broke out when Ivar made a toast in memory of their mother, who was slain by Largatha. In hindsight, he probably should have refrained from this touchy subject, despite his efforts to seem normal to his brothers. Out of all four brothers, Segurd felt the least amount of indignation and fury at their mother's death. He never forgave her for her brief affair when they were children, and a whole argument broke out that night about whether or not to avenge her death.

Ivar was already on edge and anxious, worried that a whole day spent with her adoptive parents might have changed her feelings for him, and he almost came to blows with Segurd until Ube and Hvizerk held them both back from each other. Segurd left with a foul glance back at Ivar to go take his anger out on some poor servant girl and the rest of them filed out shortly after, wanting to forget the whole scene.

When they finally left, he shot out of the front door as quickly as his arms could carry him. Ivar so badly wanted to take the chariot but was unwilling to make a ruckus that might attract others to the forrest. Instead, he made his way through the roots and fallen leaves in hasty anticipation of the woman he hoped was waiting for him.

TANARUZ

 _Where is that man?_

Tanaruz had grown too cold to wait by the river, and had went into the little house she and Ivar had spent last night in.

Memories of that that night and questions from her conversation with Helga clashed in her head as she struggled to start a fire in the dark room.

Her ears perked up at noise coming from outside the house and for a moment she thought it was Ivar, until she realized as they were growing louder that it was the voices of a man and a woman.

 _That's not Ivar._

She scrambled to her feet and looked around the already small room for a place to hide when she saw the small window, high up on the far right wall of the house, above the supply shelf.

She heard the raft hit the water outside and, knew that whoever it was outside must know that there was someone in the house since they had to reel the raft back to the other side.

She hastily climbed the rickety shelf, damming her shoes that were slick with the nighttime dew of the forrest. She struggled to find her footing and had managed to scale half of the shelf when the door swung open.

The sharp odor of ale hit her nose before a pair of rough hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her off the the shelf and onto the floor.

She struggled against this man she could not fully see, but his scent and strength were obvious even in the dark room. Standing in the doorway of the house, Tanaruz could just make out the faint outline of a woman.

She wriggled and struggled to free herself from his grasp but despite the fact that he was clearly intoxicated, he was still strong enough to hold her down.

"LIGHT A FIRE, MARGUERITE.", the man barked at the figure from the doorway, as it jumped into action and quickly started a blaze.

The room lit up in an instant and Tanaruz now looked into the face of a man around her age, with long blonde hair. But it was his eyes are what stopped her for a moment.

They were hazy and bloodshot with alcohol but the blue in them was a few shades paler than Ivar's.

 _It is one of the men I saw standing with Ivar at the ritual. He must be one of his brothers._

"Well, if it isn't the little Moorish slave girl.", he slurred with a wicked grin on his face.

Tanaruz almost spat in his face and yelled that she was no slave, until she remembered that she could not reveal how much she really knew about these Northmen. She bit back her words and breathed heavily against his suffocating weight crushing her torso.

"Trying to run away were you?" he asked reaching a hand out to stroke the side of her face. She ripped her face from his grasp only to have him backhand her across the cheek with blinding force.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE DO TO SLAVES THAT RUN?", he raged. She looked to the woman he brought with her, hoping to find some sort of sympathy. But the blonde was petrified in her spot before the fire and her eyes were wide with fear. Hot tears of terror broke out from Tanaruz's eyes. Perhaps this calmed the man or his drunk mind had a short memory because he calmed down marginally and leaned in close to her face to say,

"I should punish you for what you tried to do. Lucky for you I think my brother has taken a liking to you. I can see why. Why don't I give you to him as a gift. You know, just tonight we got into a fight. I can mend bridges with him by giving him you.", he said with an evil grin before coming closer to her ear and whispering

"And who knows. Perhaps in the spirit of brotherhood, he'll share you with me."

 **A.N. Hello everyone! I know this chapter is super early but I had some free time and something amazing happened this week! I found out on Monday that I have been accepted to transfer to the University of California, Irvine! I'm so excited and happy to start this new chapter of my life after three long years at a CC as an English major. Sorry if this is odd, just had to share that with the world lol.**

 **Now about the story, I hope you guys like this chapter and its cliffhanger, I had so much fun writing it and thank you all again for the wonderful reviews! I will try to post the next chapter this weekend but if not I hope to have it up as soon as possible! Thanks again!**


	14. Chapter 13

IVAR

The night was still and silent as he neared the river, gleaming in the moonlight. Ivar crawled closer and wondered if she was behind one of the trees or sitting on the banks.

As he drew closer to the river, his senses from years of fighting immediately made him aware of the change in the air. The change when you know someone is near when you should be alone.

Then, like a crack of a whip, a bloodcurdling scream went off from inside the little house.

In an instant, Ivar was scrambling over branches and headfirst into the river. He fought the current and clawed his way to the other side.

 _That's her, I know it's her._

He had never moved so fast in his life, as he pushed the door open with all of his weight.

What he saw inside, was like the cruelest nightmare his mind could conjure up.

Except it was not a nightmare It was real.

Inside the small confines of the shack, Marguerite was huddled in a corner looking on in horror, and Segurd was struggling to tie Tanaruz's wrists to the bedposts.

They all looked at him in the doorway, Marguerite with relief in her eyes, Segurd with drunken confusion in his and Tanaruz with tears in hers.

It was like all of the blood in Ivar's body ran backwards, and pure undiluted rage ran with it. All Ivar could hear was his speeding pulse in his ears.

All he could feel was his muscles tense up.

All he could see was the image of Tanaruz sobbing, fighting against his own brother.

All he wanted was to shred Segurd to pieces.

Segurd wouldn't have had enough time to react even if he had been stone cold sober. Ivar moved with more purpose and more fury than ever before as he stormed in and dragged Segurd by the legs down from the bed. The instant Segurd hit the ground Ivar locked him into place underneath him. Punch after punch landed on Segurd's jaw, cheek, eyes, everywhere Ivar could get his hands on.

 _He laid his hands on her! He dared to touch her! All my life he's been envious of the care our mother showed us and now he's tried to….he tried to…_

Ivar let out all of his rage on Segurd's face and feral screams ripped out of his throat. He couldn't think, he couldn't see, he couldn't hear anything beyond what he wanted to destroy.

Then suddenly, like the clear ring from a hammer in a forge, Tanaruz's voice reached him through the void of fury.

"Stop. Ivar, stop."

He looked up to see her kneeling in front of him panting.

"Please, Ivar. Stop."

He looked down to see what carnage his hands had created. Segurd's face was lost behind pools of blood collecting and sprouting between swollen bruises and torn skin.

Ivar looked down at his own hands. They were split open in some places, swollen and covered in blood.

 _My brother's blood. My blood. As my brother, he is my blood._

He then looked back at Tanaruz. They meet each others eyes. Before he could change his mind, before he could revert back to his thoughts of just minutes ago, he looked at Marguerite and panted out the words,

"Take him away."

The stunned slave girl jolted into action for the first time all night and quickly grabbed Segurd from underneath his armpits and dragged his unconscious form out of the room.

The second she was out of the door Tanaruz leapt into Ivar's arms and grasped him as tight as she could and buried her face into his chest. He held her just as tightly and they stayed that way for a few moments. Grasping each other, panting, and reassuring themselves that the other was really there and they were alright.

Ivar nestled his face into her hair, and whispered,

"Are you alright?"

Tanaruz nodded into his chest and he felt the fabric of his shirt grow damp with her tears.

"Why did you have me stop? Why did you save him?" he asked.

"Because I'll not have you kill anyone else for me." she said into his chest.

"But he was going to…he…he wanted to" Ivar couldn't even bring himself to say the words they were so revolting to him. The very notion made him want to go track Segurd down and strangle him with his own intestines.

Tanaruz lifted her head up to look him squarely in the eye and shook her head at him before saying,

"No. No he wasn't going to do anything to me. He said he wanted to…to offer me to you. That was what he was doing, he was going to go get you after he…after he tied me down."

Ivar held in a sob and pulled her closer to his chest.

"It's my fault. Segurd wanted to confirm my feelings for you. That's why he did it. By keeping this secret I put you through this." he said letting all of the rage and relief turn into guilt inside him.

 _This must stop. It will stop. By everything I have in me I will make it so no one ever lays a hand on her again. I cannot go on like this. Today was torture not knowing where she was and wondering and worrying. And there is only one way to make her safe. To make everyone in town stop seeing her as a slave to be had. The only way to protect the person that everyone in Kattegat wants, is to place it with the person everyone fears._

 _I have to marry her._

 **a.n. Well, I hope you guys like where I took that cliffhanger! Thank you all for the kind reviews and comments about my good news! I'm sorry this chapter is a bit late and short but I wanted to get something out to you guys as soon as possible. After this, I should be back to the usual update schedule of posting every weekend. Thank you all again for the wonderful support, the last chapter actually marked one month since I started this story and I'm blown away by the response, thank you thank you thank you!**


	15. Chapter 14

IVAR

 _How in Odin's name am I going to ask her to marry me? How can I ask her anything after all she's been through tonight?_

Ivar held her tighter, pressed every part of her body to his enclosing her in his arms. Her hands were clasped at the middle of his spine and soon she stopped sobbing and her breathing returned to normal.

Ivar took a deep breath

 _It is now or never._

Slowly, inch by inch Ivar detached himself from Tanaruz until he could took upon her face. He clasped her chin in his hands and lifter her eyes to his. Her face was dewy from the fresh tears and her eyes clearer than ever as they looked at him.

"I want to keep you safe, you know that don't you?"

She nodded

"I thought about you all day. Worried every moment you were out of sight. What happened here…what almost happened here tonight, it was my fault. I made you keep us a secret. I made you lie to Helga and Floki."

Tanaruz remained silent and Ivar placed his hands on either side of her face. Her round cheeks fitting perfectly in his large palms.

"I do not want you to have to lie each time you come to see me. I want us to be able to see each other whenever we want. And the only way to make the men in this wretched town stay away from you…is…is if we get married."

The two chips of amber that were Tanaruz's eyes opened wide in silent, stunned shock, and Ivar quickly added,

"ONLY TO PROTECT YOU….we wouldn't have to…do…anything. It is the only way we can live together. So I can…uh protect you."

"But…uh…Helga and Floki…."

"They will understand. They cannot keep you safe, they have already lost track of you twice."

She contemplated this for a moment then said,

"The raid of England. You would have to go… and leave me here?"

Ivar had almost completely forgotten about his earlier thoughts of England.

For as long as he could remember he wanted to leave Kattegat in search of what the world had in store. See faces he had not known since childhood, and meet people with grander ideas and aspirations. Now, with his deep disgust for his brother and men like him broiling in his heart, the idea of combining two of his fondest wishes seemed like the perfect answer.

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me to England. This is not just another raid. We are establishing land there for our people. People like us, Tanaruz. People that see Kattegat for the squalid, simple place it is, and want to venture out and start over. England can give us that new chance. We can start over. There is nothing here for us. And in England, I can keep you safe much better than here."

She looked down for a moment and brought her hands to lie flat against his chest. He could see deep thought behind her clear eyes, like a current in a river, disturbing the otherwise still water.

Finally she looked back up at him and Ivar held his breath in anticipation for what could make him the happiest man in Kattegat, or absolutely crush him.

"Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Ivar."

A deep exhale and small laugh left his lungs and he pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment.

 _She said yes. She actually said yes! Thank Odin. Of course it wont be…like a real marriage but will be enough to just be around her. To keep her safe._

"How….uh…will it…umm how will it work?"

In seconds Ivar was jolted back from his blissful moments to the present reality.

 _Oh._

"Well normally for Vikings, I first go to Floki and Helga and ask them for your hand. But in our case I will tell them of our plan for England. Then, traditionally, you would have had a meal with my mother but…uh since she is, umm dead we can maybe skip that part. Then we have the ceremony and wedding feast. We do not leave for the raid for a fortnight so we could live, uh here I suppose, in the cabin until then. If that is alright with you."

Her flashing eyes scanned the small cabin that was lit with the warm glow of the blazing fire. Ivar hoped she could still see the place as a safe and comfortable temporary home, and not have flashbacks to what almost happened in these same walls.

Finally, she settled her gaze back on his face and with the smallest motion of her head, nodded.

TANARUZ

 _Is this really happening. Did I really just agree to marry this man. This man that is rumored to have killed a boy at six. This man I have only known for days. This man, who's brother just tried to tie me to a bed to offer me up to him._

Tanarux's mind was a tempest of thoughts clashing with one another. She had agreed to marry this man. To live with him in England. Everything logical in her screamed to run. But she looked into his eyes that were earnest, desperate even, and could not see a man that she should fear. Her hands on his chest could feel his heartbeat that was racing just as fast as hers.

 _This man is more than the rumors about him. He must be. Why would a monster tie himself in marriage to a girl that everyone sees as a slave? Why would he do that to protect me? Why would he give me the chance to run from this place if there was not something redeemable in him?_

They sat in silence as they let the weight of their decisions settle upon them. In moments like this, moments where they could just be a man and a woman, it always felt like a dream to Tanaruz. So different from the world she had gotten to know in the past two months. It seemed new, precious and like it needed to be kept secret.

"You should return to Helga and Floki."

Ivar's gentle voice brought her back from her reflective state. She looked out the small window where she had tried to make her escape, and saw the first whispers of dawn pull back the curtain of night. She waited for him to make a move to leave when she suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was sitting in his lap. Tenderly, she rose from her position and stood beside him. He swung himself around until he was on his stomach and started crawling toward the door.

They made their way across the river and into the forest in silence, walking in tandem in the early morning light.

Watching Ivar move over the branches and small ditches of the forrest made Tanaruz marvel at his ability to adapt to the environment despite his crippled legs. She thought back to the cripples she had known back in her village. The poor ones moved like Ivar using what their arms to make up for their legs, but the richer ones had chairs made that had wheels attached to it. Tanaruz decided she would have to have Floki help her make this contraption for Ivar, to make life easier, when he was not in his chariot. That seemed a good enough way to start their marriage.

Marriage.

Tanaruz wondered what it would really be like to live with Ivar. Their one night and morning together was pleasant enough but this would be official. She wondered what she would be like as a wife, even if it was just in name since Ivar said she would not be expected to do…well, everything a wife is expected to do.

These thoughts ran through her mind as they approached Helga and Floki's small house. Ivar stopped a few yards from it and she followed suit. He turned to her and for some inexplicable reason she knelt down to his level. She toyed with the loose threads on her dress until Ivar placed one of her hands atop hers.

"I'm sorry for what almost happened to you tonight."

"It is fine. You came in time and you could not have known."

Ivar let out a bitter scoff, "I am already proving a bad husband. I did not even have an arm ring or ring made for you."

"A what?"

"An arm ring. It is what couples give to each other before they get married."

"Oh."

Ivar lifted up one of his sleeves and revealed a silver bracelet, he removed it and placed it on her small wrist.

"Here, take this one for now. It is too big for you but it should work for now. My father gave it to me in England before he died."

Tanaruz looked at the arm ring, it was carved with an intricate pattern and was not completely closed, but instead had two metal balls at the open ends. Ivar was right in saying it was too large for her thin wrist and so she slid it up her arm to past her elbow. That way she could keep it secret until she and Ivar told Helga and Floki.

"And as for a ring," he said, plucking one of the loose threads she had pulled from her dress and tying it to her fourth finger on her left hand, "this will do for now as well."

She looked into his impossibly blue eyes and dared to touch the side of his face for a moment.

"You should go home and take care of your hand." she said gently.

He grasped her hand and kissed her palm.

"Alright now go inside. I will be back later to talk to Helga and Floki."

She nodded and stood and walked to the door of the house. Before entering she looked back at him and allowed her self to give him a small smile before going inside.

She closed the door behind her gently and pressed her back to it with a stupid grin on her face.

The soft snores coming from the bedroom gave her the cover she needed to slowly creep back to her spot. She burrowed into the furs and pulled back her sleeve to look at the arm band and the thin thread encircling her fine fingers. She held it up to the fire and turned her hand this way and that to observe it.

Her mother was a jewelry maker, and her customers would have laughed at such simple engagement jewelry, a measly thread and a bracelet that was too large. But to Tanaruz they were just as beautiful as the jeweled pieces he admired as a child. It touched her to know that he wanted to give her something, anything to commemorate the occasion. It showed that he was someone that would give her whatever he could.

She could still feel his warm lips on the inside of her palm and she pressed her own lips to the same spot on her hand before she fell into the arms of sleep.

 **a.n. And just like that they're engaged! Thank you all for the awesome reviews and your support of the story! See you all next week for the next chapter!**

 **p.s. someone in a review mentioned that Tana's parents seemed to be jewelry makers, and I liked the idea and ran with it, so thank you to that person!**


	16. Chapter 15

TANARUZ

"Tanaruz, wake up! Please you must hurry, wake up!"

Violent shaking woke Tanaruz from her deep slumber. Usually, her sleep was fragmented by nightmares and flashbacks but the memory of Ivar and the exhaustion of the night before had sedated her so deeply, it felt as though she had just closed her eyes and now Helga was waking her up with an urgency that scared her.

"What? What is it?", Tanaruz asked, worried it might be Ivar's brother or the brother of the Nightmare coming for her. Helga was dragging her up by her arms out of the warmth of her furs and pushing her towards the bedroom.

"It is Ivar. He is here, I saw him coming when I went out to get firewood. We have to get you out of sight."

 _He has come like he said he would. To ask Helga and Floki for my hand._

Just as Helga gave her the final push into the bedroom, the front door swung open. Tanaruz looked through the slits in the wall to see that Ivar and Floki were coming in through the door, laughing about something like old friends. That seemed a goon enough sign but the fact that Helga was so frantic to hide Tanaruz away from Ivar was much less heartening. With anxiety gripping her heart, Tanaruz watched and waited as Ivar set about changing both of their lives.

IVAR

 _Just be calm. You cannot seem too insistent or they will think the worst. Just make it seem like you only want to be an ally, a guardian to her. Certainly not what you ACTUALLY want to be to her….do with her…do to her- STOP. Stop you fool!_

Ivar had been so anxious he spent the whole night sitting in the forrest. He knew himself well enough to know that if her were to return home and look at his brothers face, he might finish the job he had started earlier. Just the thought of another man's hands touching an inch of Tanruz's honey colored skin made his body thrum with rage.

So rather than returning home he sat in the forrest with a good view of Floki and Helga's home and waited until he saw Floki start working in his boats in the early morning. He greeted the tall wiry man and entered the house with him.

"So Ivar, what brings you out here? You want another chariot made? Was the first one not grand enough for you?", Floki chided

Ivar gave a halfhearted chuckle, trying to seem casual. As though this was like any other lighthearted, fraternal conversation he had had with Floki. He wondered where Tanaruz was and would have liked her to be there to harden his resolve.

"You might have an eye for construction my dear Floki, but certainly not for decoration." Ivar attempted.

Helga was watching him cautiously from across the fire where she was pouring him and Floki cups of water. Ivar cleared his throat and when she finally went to offer it to him, gave such deep thanks, one would have thought he was dying of thirst for that one cup of water.

 _Alright be brave. You have faced fierce warriors. You were a prisoner to King Ecbert. You even had the courage to kiss her, to hold her, to ask her to marry you. Now just find more courage._

"Helga, Floki there is actually a very important reason I am here.", he started saying.

The couple exchanged a look of confused apprehension but said nothing and looked back at Ivar. Ivar took a deep breath and continued.

"I am sure by now you have noticed the…um attention that Tanaruz has been receiving. From men. Floki, you know as well as I what those looks mean."

Helga began to look as though she wanted nothing more than to run from the room. She gripped Floki's hand as the man that Ivar had known all his life looked him straight in the eye. His eyes conveyed an understanding of what Ivar was saying, and NOT saying. Ivar knew how hard it was for the couple to lose their daughter, Agraboda, and the only thing that revitalized them from that dark time, was his father making peace with Floki, and Aslug entrusting them with Ivar's education.

Now, years later the wound clearly had not completely healed since Helga still felt desperate enough to be a mother again that she took Tanaruz. This was going to be difficult for them, but looking into the familiar, almost paternal eyes of Floki, Ivar knew that they both understood that Helga needed to accept the death of her daughter. Taking a Moorish girl to replace her own was only a temporary solution to a larger issue. Ivar let this shared understanding give him the courage to continue.

"I know you have both tried your best but, I think we can all agree that it will only get more and more difficult to protect her. I love our people and our ways but, it is no place for her. Over the past few months I have come to…uh care for her…about her and, um like you I only want to make sure that she is safe and happy."

That was a gross simplification of the tangle of emotions he felt for her but he knew it was what they needed to hear from him in that moment. The couple remained silent and waited for him to go on. He continued.

"That is why I suggest that Tanaruz be placed with someone that would ward off any uh...predators."

 _Malicious, lascivious bastards, more like._

"And who do you suggest, Ivar?" Helga said with thinly veiled malice in her voice.

"Me. We place her with me."

"Place her? What exactly do you mean by that, 'placing'?"

 _Here it is._

"I mean she and I get married."

There had never been a more silent room in all of Kattegat. The weight of the announcement settled over the three of them like an oppressive heat and Ivar held his breath to hear what they would have to say to his plan.

"No. No you cannot marry our Tanaruz!" Helga finally said after the shock wore off and she started to stand.

"Helga—" Floki started.

"No. No. She is OUR DAUGHTER. Ours, Floki and I will not let her be joined in marriage to this…to some…brutal savage!"

Ivar looked down in shame and smarted at her words. All his life he thought no parents would want him for their daughters because he was crippled. But now to hear that Helga rejected the idea of him because of all of the things he had done in an attempt to break through the stigma of being a cripple. He broiled with shame remembering all of the things he had done. He had killed men, beat them, almost killed Marguerite, almost killed his own bother the night before. But now he had someone to protect, to channel all of that strength for and he couldn't give up.

"I know what you think of me, and all of it is true. I have been fighting my whole life but now, I swear, all I want is to fight to protect something. To protect her. I cannot know if I will make a good husband, but I can make sure that she is safe. If the town sees us get married they will be too afraid to try anything."

Tears streamed down Helga's face as she looked desperately between Floki and Ivar, wishing one of them would conjure up a reason against this match. Finally, Floki spoke, and in an uncharacteristically serious tone he asked,

"You say you care for her, and I believe it. I have seen the way you look at her, the way you took off to look for her and bring her back that day I gave you the chariot. I always knew there was a better man inside of you, Ivar. A good man, with the potential to be great if given the chance. Perhaps Tanaruz is that chance. I give you my blessing my dear Ivar. Become the man I always knew you could be."

Ivar's heart soared and if his own father had said those words he would not have felt the same amount of pride radiating fromFloki. The two men grasped each others hands in congratulations but Helga looked on in horror and confusion.

"How can you do this?! How can you both sit there and decide something like this without asking her or me first? Do we even know if Tanaruz wants this? Does she want to marry Ivar?"

The two men dropped each others hands and realized their error. Ivar was still unsure of Tanaruz's feelings toward him since he hardly knew his own to begin with. All he knew was what he felt when he kissed her and she kissed him back. All he knew was the way her body rose and swayed in his arms and hands. All he knew was how it felt to wake up with her plush body pressed to his. Ivar opened his mouth but struggled to find an answer for Helga, when suddenly from the behind him, a quiet but strong voice rang out in the small room.

"I do. I do want to marry Ivar."

Helga, Floki and Ivar turned to see the Moorish girl standing in the doorway to the bedroom. All eyes were on her, but her eyes were only on Ivar. Her honey brown eyes met his sea blue and everything ceased to exist for Ivar. Like a vision she moved forward and sat beside Ivar and finally broke eye contact with him to look upon the stunned faces of Helga and Floki.

TANARUZ

She had been listening to the three of them argue since Ivar walked into the house. Tanaruz had never been so grateful that she spoke their language and could understand everything that was being said. Looking through the slits in the wall she had watched as Ivar made his case to her two adopted parents.

She thought back to her first two months here in this country. Those lonely two months where all she could think of was how to escape this land and its savage people. Now, three people she had not known a year ago were arguing over her safety and well-being. It was a touching scene to watch but even more heartening was watching Ivar plead for her hand in marriage.

When Helga finally brought up what Tanaruz might think of the situation and she saw Ivar struggle to confirm any feelings she might have for him, Tanaruz's heart went out for him and she could sit back no longer. He had fought for her until now and she felt it was the least she could do to stand up for him.

And now, sitting before her two guardians that were looking at her as if she had suddenly stripped naked, she only had more appreciation for Ivar's courage. She took a deep breath and rode out this new-found wave the courage even further and reached out for Ivar's hand. Tanaruz grasped it with all her might and earned another astonished look from Ivar.

Floki was the first to shake the surprise and asked,

"Are you sure Tana? You do not have to do this if you do not want to, we can all work to keep you safe. And aren't you leaving for the raid of England Ivar? What do you plan to do then?"

Tanaruz took moment to consider this before finally answering.

"I will go with him." she replied calmly.

"WHAT?" Helga demanded.

Ivar found his voice again and stepped in.

"Yes, we will both journey to England after we are married, and live with the other settlers there."

"You mean starting a new life in England?" Helga asked, eyes ablaze with pain and shock.

"Yes." Tanaruz answered.

"And this what you want? What you truly want?" Floki asked looking at the both of them carefully.

Tanaruz looked down before brining her face up, her eyes rose to meet Ivar's that were already looking at hers. She lost herself in the blue of his eyes but somehow found more clarity than she had known since being brought to this land.

"Yes."

Ivar smiled at her and took her hand in his. Floki observed the couple carefully and went to look at Helga only to find the woman sobbing and running from the room. Tanaruz reluctantly tore her gaze from Ivar's and saw Helga flee the room, and rose to follow her.

"She understands." Floki said, "She understands why, but it does not make it any easier for her."

Tanaruz sat back down and gripped Ivar's hand with all of her might drawing strength from his large, rough hands.

 _This is happening. I am getting married. I am marrying Ivar, this man beside me that I hardly know, and yet understand more than anyone else here._

"Well then, if you two are set on getting married, let us have the best damn wedding this town has ever seen." Floki said with that notorious twinkle in his eye.

 **a.n. A thousand apologies for the wait! I had a really busy week and I sort of got lost and did not know where I wanted to take the story exactly but I thank you all so much for your support and your patience!**


	17. Chapter 16

**a.n. I AM SO SO SO SORRY I have been gone for so long! Things have just been so busy and I had to seriously focus on where I wanted the story to go after hitting a bit of writers block. This chapter might be a bit dull but hopefully you guys see it as the prelude to much more interesting things (ie. I have to get serious about changing the rating to M) Thank you all for your patience and encouragement, I really do not deserve it!**

IVAR

The three of them spent the rest of the day talking over plans for the ceremony and Ivar and Tanaruz exchanged nervous glances at one another. Ivar was distracted by both his inability to believe this turn of fate and his dread of returning home to tell his brothers.

He had never truly felt close to them since they all got to live normal lives and he suspected they all shared, to some degree, Sigurd's jealousy due to the the attention their mother had shown him. Now, after what he had done to Sigurd's face, he suspected he had only made himself more of an outsider.

This revelation would have made him more sorrowful if it were not for the dazzling vision currently serving him and Floki lunch. His brothers were all he had before, especially after the death of his mother but now Ivar's eyes took in each aspect of Tanaruz, her curling tresses of dark hair, honey skin, supple curves, and marveled at the idea that she would soon be his wife.

 _It would't matter if I lost the faith in a thousand brothers, if I had this one woman by my side._

"I had better check on Helga" said Floki rising from his seat and exiting the small house.

Ivar looked out of the small window and saw that dusk had settled upon Kattegat and he had best get it over with and tell his brothers. He moved with Floki to the door and made his goodbyes.

The two men patted each other heartily on the back, they had always been very close for two men that were not actually blood related.

"This time tomorrow I get to call you 'son', dear Ivar." Floki said with his teasing tone.

"And I will still call you 'old man'." Ivar teased back.

They chucked with each other again and Floki left the room, but Ivar stayed for a moment longer and looked back at Tanrauz who was observing him with a queer sort of appraising motioned for her to come to him in the doorway and she complied. Tanaruz crouched down so they were eye level with one another and he took her hand in his.

"I will see you tomorrow. Where we will be husband and wife" he scoffed "It is not to late to say no, you know?" Ivar said dreading her answer.

She simply shook her head and gripped his hand tighter. Ivar grinned at that and kissed the back of her hand. He looked up to see the loveliest blush rise to Tanaruz's cheek and with great reluctance he left the little house on the shore. Now he just had to tell his brothers the news.

TANARUZ

 _This is why you are marrying him, Tanaruz. The tightness you feel whenever he looks at you. The hear you feel rise to the surface of your skin each time he touches you. The feeling of serenity when you stare into his blue eyes._

These thoughts passed through her mind as she watched him leave. In all honesty these thoughts were easier to manage then the more frightening ones that lurked in the corners of her mind.

 _What will his brothers think? What will this village think about this marriage? Will Helga ever get around to the idea? I could really use a mother-figure right now, they help prepare us for the expectations of marriage. Oh. Right. The expectations that come with marriage. Consummation. Children. What if Ivar wants all of that and I….I. Well, I know he said HE did not expect me to do all of the things a wife does but….would I really mind? Oh goodness this is too much._

With a firm shake of her head, Tanaruz decided to tackle the problem most present, Helga.

The gentle north woman was sitting alone on the shore and Tanaruz quietly made her way to her. She reached the spot of shore and sat beside Helga. Tears streaked Helga's face but she kept her gaze on the horizon.

Tanaruz fiddled with her hands for a few minutes, hating every second of silence and just when she felt she would scream to fill the emptiness, she finally started to speak,

"Helga, I—"

"Are you sure you want to marry him, Tanaruz?" Helga asked in a clear but quiet voice

"Yes."

"You are not just afraid of refusing him are you? If you do not want him we can find a way."

Tanaruz thought for a moment and realized that despite the fact that he clearly had the skill and the upbringing of the terrifying raiders that had attacked her town and changed her life forever, she felt no real fear around him. Apprehension, yes. But not the same paralyzing fear that she had become familiar with.

"No. I am not doing this because I fear him, Helga. I think—I think that he…he—"

"He cares for you." Helga said resolutely. Without a shred of doubt.

Tanaruz stayed silent, stunned by Helga's keen observation. It was clear to Tanaruz after the night that they patched each other up and passionately kissed in his house in the woods, that Ivar held at least some affection for her. But to hear it said so solidly from a normally reserved person like Helga was startling to Tanaruz.

"I admit I see I great difference in him since he met you, Tana. I know he would not mistreat you and he would, and has, protected you I just—I thought I would get to keep you for a bit longer", said Helga before breaking into a bout of sobs.

Tanaruz's heart went out to this woman and she enclosed her thin body in her arms and the two women sat there on the shore holding each other against the chilly air and uncertain future.

IVAR

There had been plenty of times in Ivar's life when he dreaded coming home to the house he shared with his brothers. After a fight, when he knew they had women there to taunt him with. But this particular evening was different. He was not sure how they would react to his engagement to Tanaruz, and how they would treat him after what he did to Segurd. Ivar had always been envious of the natural bond that the three of them seemed to share. Sure, he sparred, drank and laughed with them but whenever Ivar did something wrong they were so quick to ban together against him.

But now he would need their support. He needed to know he would have his brothers, his blood on his side in this great new adventure he was embarking on. Marriage.

Ivar also needed to know that they would not try to seek revenge against him for almost killing Sirgurd. All he wanted to do was provide a safe environment for Tanaruz, instead of one where they had to fear retaliation from his own kin.

Ivar pushed through his anxiety and shouldered the front door of the house open.

All his life, Ivar was used to eyes being on him from the moment he entered a room, but this time, he was hyper aware of the four pairs of eyes that settled on him.

Ubbe, Hvisterk and Marguerite were all gathered around Segurd who was lying on the long dining table in the middle of the house. His face was washed of blood and dirt to unveil the purple, blue swollen mess Ivar had made. Multiple small cuts had opened up on his cheekbones and brow bone. His jaw looked cartoonishly larger than normal, and both of his eyes looked like puffy bags of skin ready to burst of he tried to open them.

Marguerite was carefully ladling soup into his mouth, while Ubbe and Hvisterk looked on.

All three stared at Ivar as he closed the door behind him and moved onto a sitting log.

"Well Ivar, we always knew you were brave but to show your face again after what you have done makes you either the bravest man I have ever met or the most stupid." said Ubbe, ever ready to chastise his younger brothers. "I knew you two were always at each others throats but this, Ivar? THIS?"

"What would mother think? Would she be proud of her precious Ivar after seeing what you did to your own kin?, asked Hvisterk

Ivar finally spoke up and said, "You are right, she always told us to look out for each other. But she also said to protect those that we love with everything we have."

Ubbe scoffed "And what was so precious you had to come within blows of killing your own brother?"

"He was hurting Tanaruz."

Ivar's two brothers were stunned into silence and looked at him as if his skin had suddenly turned blue.

"The Moorish girl?" asked Hviserk when he finally gathered his senses.

"Yes. Margurite did not tell you what happend?"

"No she has been too busy healing Segurd since she dragged him here from the forrest. But—but….what?" Ubbe asked trying to find the logic in this encounter.

"I told her to meet me there that night and he got there before me and…and he attacked her." Ivar fought to stay calm and relay the story to his brothers. "I got there just as he was tying her to the bed. He wanted to …to offer her up to me. I had to do something."

Ubbe and Hviserk looked at each other in silent disbelief. Finally Ubbe turned to Margerite and asked her, "Is what he says true?"

Marguerite looked up from her work tentatively and Ivar realized that she was the only person in the room that could corroborate this story.

"Yes it is true. Segurd was very drunk and after the fight the two of them had had he was not thinking clearly." she said allowing Ivar to breath a sigh of relief.

Ubbe rubbed his palms against his face and after a few moments of silence he gathered his thoughts and said, "Perhaps I have not upheld our mothers teachings either. I should never have let you two fight as much as you do."

"But why did it matter to you so much? If he was offering up a slave for you to bed I do not see the problem with it. Especially not with a slave that looks like Tanaruz does. Have you seen the size of her—"

"ENOUGH!" Ivar screamed.

When his blood pressure finally returned to normal he opened his eyes to see his two brothers were smiling knowingly at him.

"So we were right! You have come to care for the little outlander." Ubbe said.

"And if she trusted you enough to meet you alone in the house late at night it must mean that you feelings are not completely one-sided." added Ubbe.

Ivar fought the grin threatening to rise up on his face and decided that now was as good a time as any to tell them the news,

"It appears so since she has agreed to marry me."

This time even Marguerite stopped her busy hands and all three of them stared at Ivar in wide-eyed shock.

Finally after a few tense moments when Ivar feared they were petrified in disbelief, Ubbe and Hviserk leaped to their feet and lifted Ivar over their shoulders, shouting and cheering like after a successful battle.

"Who would have thought you would be the first of us to get married?" Ubbe joked and Ivar was relived to know that they still shared a shred of fraternal love between them. They asked for details and Ivar retold them the details and informed them of Floki's approval. All of their boisterous cheering had another affect however.

"He's awake." Margureite told them and they all turned to see the swollen eyes of Segurd open as much as they could.

Ivar was still enraged at his brother and thought it best not to be the first voice he heard after waking from his unconscious state. Instead it was Ubbe who tried to broke the silence and said, "Segurd you are awake. Did you hear the news? Our little Ivar is getting married! Now at least you know your beating was not in vain, but for true love!"

They all waited anxiously to see how Segurd would respond.

From split lips and a groggy throat came the words,

"Good for you brother. If I were able to—I'd smile."

The three throttlers chuckled nervously and the scent of fresh blood and grudge hung in the air.


	18. Chapter 17

**A thousand apologies guys! I'm so so so so sorry I took so dang long to get back to this story. I had finals to deal with and then I just hit a total case of writer's block and couldn't think of where to take this story. I wrote this chapter a while ago but wanted to wait until I had more, or maybe something that would have made the wait worth it for you guys but I'll just be posting this chapter and the next one. It doesn't get into the wedding night (forgive me) but that chapter is just going to need a lot of time and work but I didn't want you guys to wait that long so I hope you can all forgive me for the long delay and I thank you all so much for the new followers, and your continued patience! Till next time!**

IVAR

It didn't seem real.

All of the men Ivar had ever been close with his whole life were gathered at his house to celebrate and prepare him for his wedding day. But to Ivar, these faces he had known his whole life were insignificant and their bawdy jokes irritating.

"So, our Ivar is getting himself a wife finally." said one man from the crowd. Ivar did not care enough to look at who.

"Yes, and by the looks of her, he waited all this time for QUITE the prize." said another, setting off a collective chuckle from the men in the room.

Only his three brothers did not join in the revelry. Segurd had healed up reasonably well but still sported a shiny, tight look to the swollen parts of his face, and he was observing the mornings events with a scowl. But Ivar did not let it worry him. There was too much else to worry about at the moment.

Here he was, a man that had never been with a woman in his life, about to pelage himself to a girl he had known only in times of intense passion or danger.

"What is the matter Ivar? It does not bode well to look so nervous on your wedding day." said a young soldier Ivar had fought with before.

Another round of laughter circulated and with all eyes on him he felt he could hide no longer and had to answer the question.

Ivar did his best attempt at a smile and said, "I just hope I can live up to all of the…duties of being a husband."

"Oh do not worry, dear Ivar. The most important _duty_ you have as a husband is something you will _not hate doing_ my dear boy" a hearty chuckle circulated the room and Ivar wanted nothing more than to melt through the wall and escape these idiots.

Cutting through the laughter and lewd gestures was the sound of the door creaking open slowly. In the doorway stood Floki.

Ivar had not spoken to him since the day he had first proposed the marriage to him and Helga, since he was too afraid that Floki would change his mind and not support the marriage.

The tall, gangly man entered the room slowly as all jokes stopped and all eyes were on him.

Ivar had fought his whole life for the respect, pride and love of his own father, but now watching the man that had taught him what it meant to be Viking since he was a young boy, enter the room he felt a earning like no other for Floki's blessing. Ivar had know the man long enough to know that the mischievous and playful man he acted as was only the surface of Floki. In battle Floki turned into a fierce and reckless warrior, and as a shipbuilder he was nothing less than a genius. And to Ivar, he was the closest thing he would ever have to a real father.

Floki reached Ivar and the two men faced each other in silence for what felt like a century.

Finally Floki's painted eyes crinkled up in that familiar way that Ivar loved and his whole face broke into his notorious grin.

"Why so glum-looking Ivar? Is it because you are just now realizing that we are linked for life after today?" said Floki.

Ivar could not help but to match Floki's grin. His senseless and lighthearted humor was exactly what he needed to steady himself on this day of all days.

"No my dear Floki, I am just glad that Tanaruz is adopted. Else she might have inherited THAT face." Ivar said.

Instantly the room lost its tense atmosphere and the remaining men in the room broke into lively conversation again. In the hubbub of noise, Floki and Ivar, upon instinct, moved closer together to talk. Floki pulled up a stool and the two men sat facing each other.

"So Ivar, tell me how you are _really_ feeling." Floki said, serious now but still kind and a reassuring presence.

"I feel like my limbs want to detach from my body and my blood will not rest."

Floki chuckled but said nothing and let Ivar continue.

"I have faced warriors, fought battles, was taken hostage in England and yet I have never been so unsure of myself before. I mean— it makes no sense at all. Any of it! How did the crippled son of King Ragnar find himself marrying a Moorish orphan girl who has only been here for a few months?"

"So you think because you are the son of a king you are better than her?" Floki said with a raised eyebrow.

"What?! No no no! If anything I do not deserve _her._ I mean, the girl has been through enough already why would the gods see it fit to saddle her to a cripple that is the prince of nothing now that both my parents are dead?"

Floki only chuckled some more in amusement, "Oh my dear Ivar. I felt the same way on my wedding day. I thought 'How am I able to call this beautiful, gentle devoted woman my wife?'. And I still ask myself that question every morning I wake up next to her. I thank all of the gods in Asgard that they gave me this wonderful absurd turn of luck."

"So you are saying this feeling, this confusion will NEVER GO AWAY?"

More chuckles, "I am saying— earn this. The gods have given you a gift, and it it your duty to live the rest of your life working to be worthy of it. If you do not think you are right for her now, then alright. Better yourself. Make yourself into the man she deserves."

Ivar sighed, "What she deserves is a man that has legs that work."

"Oh yes, about that and speaking of gifts—" Floki said groaning as he got up from his seat and walked toward the door "The reason I was late to this, is because I was putting the finishing touches on something for you."

Floki pushed the door open to reveal his latest creation. It was a chair, wooden but not nearly bulky as those used at dining tables, and on either sides of the chair were two great wheels. The other men had followed Ivar and Floki outside and they all seemed confused as to what Floki's latest invention was.

But Ivar knew.

He knew exactly what it was, who it was from and what it meant. It was yet another invention concocted by Tanaruz, made to make his life easier. It was so he would not have to crawl around anymore, the simple structure of the chair was done so to make it as light as possible so he could move faster. The sight of the contraption made Ivar's heart swell with gratitude and something else he could not quite pin down. No one had ever gone so far or done so much for him in his entire life. This was what he needed that morning. He needed a sign of her shared commitment to making their life together work. But the thoughtfulness of it is what touched Ivar more.

 _She must share some of the feelings I have for her as well. I was right, I do not deserve such a woman. But Floki is right too. I have to make this worth it. I have to make myself worthy._

TANARUZ

 _This cannot be real._

Tanaruz's amber eyes surveyed over all of the women currently mulling about Helga and Floki's small home. They seemed so strange to her. Even stranger than when she first arrived to Kattegat and could not understand the words coming out out of their mouths.

But now she could.

She could hear everything they were saying to each other.

"Is Ivar really going to marry her?"

"It beggars belief, I mean, to marry a MOOR of all people?"

"And that other brother, Sigurd, marrying that tart, Marguerite. It seems the new trend is to marry the local slave girl."

"Well it is not like men have not been known to bed a servant every now and then but to actually marry them?!"

"I know, I know. It is a fate that falls on all of the pretty slave girls. And just look at her. There was no way any man was going to leave her alone. It is a wonder she made it this long without…incident."

"Well, after today no one would dare even LOOK at the girl now that she is going to belong to Ivar."

"Yes, but Ivar alone presents plenty of problems. We have all heard and even seen the force he can fight with. Just imagine the ferocity he …well does _other_ things with."

"Well, the little Moor will get to witness that for herself tonight."

The women that were gossiping erupted into laughter and it was all Tanaruz could do to not leap up from her seat in the center of the room and run out the door.

 _As if I could make it past this enormous pile of gifts without hurting myself anyway._

Tanaruz was referring to the still-growing heap of wedding presents that surrounded her. Ivar must have forgotten to mention this little wedding tradition of women dropping of gifts for the bride all morning, when he was discussing it with her. The pile was growing by the minute but her mind was too distracted to look at any of them. The thought of gifts however did make her think of the one she had made with the help of Floki. The wheelchair that by the second seemed like a bad idea.

 _What if he sees it as an insult? What if he thinks I detest him for his crippled legs and he gets angry? Do I hate his crippled legs?_

She considered this for a moment and decided that she did not. After her treatment in Kattegat she knew better than to judge people by their outward appearance and in all honesty it did not bother her. She saw for herself that day in the woods when she spied him training with his brothers, that it did not impede his abilities as a fighter and if she felt anything it was pity for him. If he was this monster the people of the village made him out to be, it was only his way of trying to prove them wrong. But, by the looks of it he had gone a little too far and now the whole town feared him.

 _Maybe I will have cause to fear him._

Waves of nausea rolled through her whole body and the small house seemed even smaller and suddenly airless. Tanaruz took deep breaths in an effort to calm herself and closed her eyes trying to close out the gossips and the pressure of this day.

Suddenly a cool, soft hand landed on her shoulder. Her eyes lifted from the floor to rest on Helga's calm face.

"Tana, let's talk outside."

Tanaruz was happy to leave the stuffy room but, Helga had scarce spoken to her at all since the wedding had been set. Helga had only spoken to her in regards to wedding details like the dress , flowers and such. She was too upset to even talk to Floki and he and Tanaruz had both decided to give the woman her space and time to come to terms with the situation.

The pair left the cramped room for the small secluded cove north of the house. Helga sat on an overturned boat her husband was putting the finishing touches on, and Tanaruz followed suit.

They sat in silence for a moment breathing in the fresh air coming from the sea.

Finally Helga spoke,

"Tana, I am sorry I have not been more help to you since I heard of the engagement. Every bride needs support before she marries…and I was not there to give it to you" Helga said in a gentle voice.

"You do not have to be sorry for anything, Helga. This all happened so fast…I…I am still trying to understand it."

Helga smiled gently clasped Tanaruz's hands and looked into the eyes of her adopted daughter, "I was being selfish towards you. I was not thinking of anyone but myself and my own grief when I took you from that small village. I should have known I had no right to bring you to a foreign land away from everything you knew and now…now that you have finally found a way to make your new life better I should not stop you. In many ways, Ivar is taking on the responsibility and action that I should have. You are both paying the price for my actions. Those women back there were right about one thing, he can make you safe."

"I suppose so, none of the other men will bother me. He already protected me once."

Tanaruz recalled that fateful night that Ivar saved her and stitched up her leg with such care and her heart still swelled with gratitude and something else yet to be identified. Her thoughts then recalled how that night ended, with them wrapped up in each other, hands sliding and gripping skin, lips crashing and pulling.

 _I know what I felt that night and I have to believe he feels it too. I could do a lot worse for a husband._

"I was wrong about him. Everyone in the village was. You have had an effect on him." Helga said with a knowing smile.

Tanaruz blushed despite the cold air and looked away from Helga's honest eyes that saw right through her.

Helga chuckled softly, "Come along, my dear. Those women might be terrible gossips but they know how to give good gifts. and then we must get you dressed"


	19. Chapter 18

TANARUZ

Laughter, drummers and the heat from the many torches in the town square warmed up the otherwise chilly evening. All of Kattegat, and even the traders in for the season, were all out in force that evening for the wedding feast.

The noise was so loud it created a thrum that vibrated all over her body. Whether it was the beat of the drums or the excitement of the day beating out a rhythm in her heart, Tanaruz could not tell.

The ceremony was lovely, but all she could focus on was Ivar.

After her talk with Helga, she, and all of the other women in the town, got Tanaruz dressed for her wedding.

Her dress was made of white linen and it was much looser and billowy than the other dresses they wore on a daily basis. The neckline came down to a graceful V and the sleeves ended at her elbows. Pieces of lace bought from the traveling merchants adorned the rest of the dress and a crown of wild-flowers, a rarity in the harsh environment of Kattegat, were made into a crown circling her head.

Tanaruz and Floki boarded a small boat laden with lush ferns and local foliage and made the short trip up from the small cove next to their home, to the clearing where the entire town, Helga and Ivar waited.

Even from a distance Tanaruz could see that Ivar was seated in the wheelchair she had drawn up for him. But even more eye-catching from across the waters was his dazzling smile.

Ivar was grinning at his incoming bride and the effect only made his turquoise blue eyes shimmer even more.

That smile, those eyes and the clear excitement he showed to be marrying her was everything she needed to step off of the boat with confidence that she was making the right choice in marrying him. Not just the RIGHT choice at that, but one she found she really WANTED to make.

Floki lead her up to the slightly raised dais where a canopy of ferns, a bearded man in robes, and Ivar awaited.

Tanaruz took her place next to Ivar and he immediately took her hand. The rough skin and warmth of his hand enclosing over hers was all of the certainty she needed.

Together they faced the man that seemed to be a priest and the wedding ceremony began.

Before that day Tanaruz had no idea what a wedding ceremony was in this Northman culture and even after her own she could not say but for a few details.

Her mind was in a dreamy state and all of the noises seemed muffled as though they were being said underwater. At one point she did have to turn and face Ivar. It was then that they each lifted their right hands and laid them on top of one another as a ribbon, deep green with leaves and trees embroidered into it, was tied around their hands, binding them together.

More words were said but all Tanaruz could hear was the blood rushing in her ears as she drowned in Ivar's gaze and the warmth of his large hand.

Following the ceremony, Tanaruz walked alongside Ivar in his wheelchair to the town square where the wedding feast was presently in full swing.

They had not said much to each other and had eaten even less. Various members of the town had come up to their table to offer their congratulations, most notably Ivar's brothers.

"These are my brothers." Ivar said. "Ubbe, the oldest,"

Ivar gestured to a large man that, had it not been for his kind eyes and pleasant smile, would have been very intimidating.

"This is Hviserk," Hviserk was leaner than Ubbe but his lithe tall frame insinuated the same impression of strength and his smile had a little more mischief in it, like Floki's.

Ivar paused for a moment before motioning to the last figure before them. He was almost unrecognizable to Tanaruz. His face, once fair and unblemished, was swollen in various places and had a sickly yellow color to it that indicated that at least they were close to being healed. Sigurd hobbled over to the table and Ivar just stared at him, not saying a word just watching to see what he would do.

Although flashbacks of that horrid night would come back to Tanaruz sometimes: the crushing weight of his body, the stench of ale on his breath, the sad, crumpled thing standing before them only made Tanaruz feel that everything was even now. He had hurt her, yes, scared her beyond belief but the lumpy face, body that could not move without pain, and eyes that could not look up from the ground showed her that the debt was paid.

 _And besides, these three men are the only family that Ivar has and by marrying him they become my family. I should try to mend fences and not hold any grudges._

Ubbe an Hviserk had lost the warm smiles they had on from moments ago and instead watched and waited until Ubbe gently nudged Sigurd's arm. Sigurd looked at Tanaruz through the one eye that was not swollen and said in a slow voice that clearly caused him pain from a likely broken jaw,

"I would like to offer my most sincere apologizes to you Ivar and mostly to you, Tanaruz…sister. I was very drunk that night and was not thinking clearly. I hope both of you can find it in your heart to forgive me and accept my most humble apology."

Tanaruz glanced at Ivar for a moment before realizing that everyone was staring at her expectantly. This was her forgiveness to dole out and and ultimately her decision.

She looked back into the one good eye of her new brother in law and nodded her pardon.

The tension dissipated immediately and Ivar's two other brothers started laughing it off and shaking Sigurd by the shoulders.

"Now then brother," Said Ubbe, "Why don't you take your lovely new bride home? Everyone else is drunk and stuffed full of food but tradition doesn't let them go home until the newlyweds leave first."

Ivar nodded and slowly maneuvered the wheelchair away from the table.

 _Clearly he's learning the way about the chair quickly._

He took Tanaruz's hand and together they walked away from the wedding feast, the cheers and bawdy jokes being shouted at them from the entire population of Kattegat, and headed toward their new home and new life.


	20. Chapter 19

SIGURD

 _It just isn't fair._

 _Surely the god's are playing some sort of awful trick on the poor crippled runt and are about to rip everything from under him… Speaking of things "under him", I almost can't bear to think that sad cripple gets to bed that delicious slave girl tonight._

Sigurd had to admit that the festivities of the wedding stung particularly hard, even more than the multiple wounds on his person that were still healing. If he were being honest with himself, he would admit that this night and all of the animosity he felt was a culmination of the years he spent watching his mother dote on Ivar.

Sigurd watched the happy couple move away from the wedding feast toward the house they would be living in. His eyes naturally drifted to Tanaruz's round bottom.

 _It really is a pity to waste such a treat on a cripple who couldn't fuck a woman if he tried._

Sigurd was so used to the Nordic slaves they brought in from neighboring lands but one glance at the curvaceous women the rest of the world could offer, and Sigurd was no longer content with the thin, pale bodies of women like Marguerite. He glanced over at her milky complexion like the moon and sighed. Just like the moon, her appearance although initially stunning, gave off no heat.

But gods that slave girl. the flames of lust practically rolled off of those breasts, those hips. With curves a man could grip onto and mold to his hands…

 _It just is not fair._

All of these years being the typical Viking man, a prince even, and yet he still must sit here, wounds still sore, accompanied not by a wife but by a slave that had bedded all of his brothers, and watch as Ivar carts away with the greatest plunder of all. Clearly the gods do not just hand men rewards, rewards much be taken…so too must punishments. The cripple will pay and that new wife of his will see him for exactly what he is.

TANARUZ

 _Just breathe. Just foot after the other. Left, right,, left, right. Thousands of women have made this walk before. You will make this walk many more times. The walk home with your husband. Husband. Husband…best get used to saying and hearing that._

The young Moorish girl stole a glance at Ivar. His profile was cool and calm as always. Clearly he was adjusting much better than she. Tanaruz took a deal breathe to fortify herself and resolved to try and match her husband's disposition.

The cold night air brushed against her cheekbones and Tanaruz thought back to the other times she had taken this path to the little shack by the water. The first time running in fear for her life, too frightened to pay attention to her surroundings, the second time a bit calmer but full of anxiety over meeting Ivar in secret.

And now here she was, walking beside Ivar and the same amount of anxiety rushed through her body. It seemed as though each time she took this path, her feelings for the Viking prince grew stronger each time. At this point she knew she cared for him and that he cared for her, but now she wondered what sort of life they would lead, what sort of husband he would turn out to be and what sort of wife she would be.

"Are you alright? Are you cold?" Ivar asked, snapping her out of her daze.

"Oh, no I am fine. Thank you"

Ivar stopped and dismounted his new wheelchair, they were venturing farther into the woods and the terrain was too difficult to make by chair. They continued on and finally Ivar broke the silence,

"You do not need to be nervous, Tanaruz."

"Nervous?"

"Oh, um.. scared."

"Oh."

"I only mean that…I know the women and Helga must have uh said some things but um I don't expect..anything from you tonight."

"Oh."

 _Heavens he means…my wifely duties. But, but all of the woman made it seem as though this man wanted…well, everything and after that first night in the cabin…_

The pair reached the raft,the small house that would now be theirs across the way, lit from within by the fireplace, and Ivar helped Tanaruz onto it gently, grasping her wrists until she stabilized herself. She quickly made the way over the stream, trying to ignore the phantom warmth his hand had left on the inside of her wrists.

She dismounted the raft and turned around to face Ivar across the stream. The moonlight soaking his sharp features in pale luminosity and making his eyes even bluer. They stayed that way, just taking the sight of each other in. This had to be one of the few quiet moments they had alone together since they met.

Ivar's striking face broke into a slow smile, the same one he gave her after proposing to her and Tanaruz found herself returning the smile. She couldn't recall any other time she had smiled in the past few months but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing ever.

Ivar finally pulled the raft back to his side and began the process of getting himself onto it. He was leaned over, with the front of his body above the raft but the lower half still on the bank of the stream when suddenly, From the shadows of the forrest behind Ivar, Sigurd came hurling out of the night.

"IVAR!" Tanaruz screamed, but it was no use. Ivar had just enough time to turn and see the crazed look on his brother's face before the two men slammed into one another and the momentum threw Ivar into the icy stream.

Tanaruz barely had time to scream before Ivar's body splashed into the quick moving water. She raced head-first after him, the frozen water hitting her skin like the fear she was feeling, her heart raced as she struggled to find her footing. The stream was just deep enough to where she could not stand and keep her head above water. Ivar had luckily reacted quickly enough to grab onto the ropes that shuttled the raft from each side of the stream and was fighting the strong current and trying to meet Tanaruz.

The pair met halfway and clung together, together they used the ropes and each other to make it to the other side.


	21. Chapter 20

IVAR

 _I knew I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance._

Gasping and frozen to the bone, the newlyweds crawled up onto the bank of the river.

"A-a-are you alright?" Ivar managed to ask between the clattering of his teeth.

Tanaruz nodded, hands wrapped around herself.

"We n-need to make it inside—get warm."

Tanaruz nodded and made her way to the house. Despite everything that had just happened, Ivar could not help noticing the way her white wedding dress, now soaked through with water, clung to every inch of her body, the material practically transparent, giving him far too clear image of her figure.

 _Get it together man you JUST told her you didn't expect anything._

 _Yeah, who's genius idea was that?_

 _Gods if the men in of the town heard him, Ivar Lothbrook the fierce warrior, internally arguing with himself, putting his new wife's comfort above his own desperate desires and needs… and gods when she looks like she does now…perhaps I should dunk myself in the cold river again if I want any hope of keeping that promise._

The pair made it inside of the small shack that was blissfully warm from the fire that had been warming the small space since someone from the wedding party came by earlier to light it for the newlywed couple.

This was an old Viking tradition, meant to cut time wasted doing menial tasks on the couples wedding night, so they could get to - other things.

 _Stop drifting to that subject._

Once he stopped admiring her figure, Ivar realized he had to get to work on getting them out of their freezing cold clothes. Tanaruz was clearly not used to the dangers of cold climates so he would have to take the reins on this one.

TANARUZ

Ivar shuffled over to the shelf that held extra blankets and handed Tanaruz one.

"You have to take off your wet clothes to get warm again, but you can cover yourself with this. I'll warm up some water for you to soak in"

He began filling a large pot with water and placing it over the fire, then he dragged out the large bathtub. Hefting out the tub without the use of his legs, freezing and weighed down by the wight of the water in his clothes, took quite sometime and his own soaked clothes left streaks all over the wood floor, but again Tanaruz had to admire the endurance he showed. He mixed the hot water with the buckets that were room temperature making for a warm bath mixture.

Ivar did all of these tasks with his head down and eyes diligently averted and during that time Tanaruz removed her wedding dress, now heavy with water. She considered leaving her small clothes on but decided that when he said all clothes must be removed to get warm, he meant _all_ of her clothes. She left all of her wedding garments in a soggy pile on the floor and quickly wrapped herself up in the blanket her husband had provided.

 _…what now?_

Ivar turned around to face her from her spot on the bed. His sea blue eyes catching the flames of the roaring fire.

"You should get in first. I'll go in after you have warmed up." he said, never taking his eyes from hers.

Tanaruz considered this proposal, her heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of Ivar and how he could still be so selfless despite the fact that his brother had tried to kill him just moments ago.

 _So this is real then. Now is the time he could have shown his true colors because up until now he could have been pretending to be someone else to trick me into marrying him. But that isn't who he is. He is someone that cares about my safety and health. He is someone that would not show a moments weakness even on a night like this, to make me feel safer. He is someone that is clearly struggling with the awkwardness of this moment and is selfless enough to let me bath separately…even though I get the feeling he wants to do otherwise._

"We can bathe together." she said before Tanaruz had time to think about what she was saying.

Ivar looked stunned for a moment,

"Are…are you sure?"

Tanaruz nodded.

IVAR

 _Gods, perhaps I died in that river and this is some perfect afterworld I'm in._

The pair kept their eyes locked on one another as he started to pull at the ties on his shirt and he began to undress. When he came to his pants he hesitated.

This would be the first time Tanaruz would be seeing them naked of the pants he always wore to hide them.

 _Just do it. She has to see them eventually and for gods' sake, she's completely naked for you right now and just agreed to bathe with you._

Fighting through the nausea that was threatening to make Ivar run out the door, he unlaced the front of his pants and lifted his legs out of them and his small clothes as well.

He watched his bride's face the entire time and for the most part she kept her eyes on his face, but finally her amber orbs drifted to his legs. The delicate features of her face remained still as she surveyed her new husband. Her face gave no clues as to what she was thinking and she said nothing the whole time. It must have only been a minute or so but to Ivar it felt like a century.

Finally the silence was too much to bear and he mustered every bit of strength he and and asked,

"Should I get in first?"

Tanaruz's eyes returned to his.

"Yes."

TANARUZ

 _So that is what they look like._

She had never seen Ivar's legs before and she knew it must have taken a lot of bravery and trust for him to have shown her his vulnerabilities.

But if she were being completely honest they were not as horrifying as everyone made them out to be.

They were simply a pair of legs that had no muscle to them. The bones showing prominently under the pale skin of his legs that had never been exposed to the sun.

The women that morning had made it seem as though his legs were a nightmare to behold, twisted at all the wring angles or all of the flesh rotting from the lack of use.

They also presented theories about _other_ things below his belt…but they were wrong about that too.

"Should I get in first?"

 _Oh right…bathing._

"Yes."

She could not find a source for her sudden brazenness, she was all instinct tonight. She was determined to give into her gut feelings and not let the outside world, logic or fear get in the way.

Ivar moved sideways until he reached the tub. Using his arms he lifted himself into the warm water, the muscles of his upper body rippling as he did so and Tanaruz felt the same rush of warmth to her pelvis that she felt the first night the two had spent in the cabin.

Breathless, Tanaruz rose from the edge of the bed still wrapped in the blanket. She made it to the lip of the tub and stood for a moment before slowly uncrossing her arms from her chest and letting the blanket fall to the ground.

Ivar's eyes took in the sight of her naked body and under his gaze it was as if all of her blood rose to the surface of her skin and warmed her from the inside out.

Unable to take the anxious and heart wrenching feelings any longer, she made moves to lift her leg over the edge of the tub that was opposite the side that Ivar was sitting on when he suddenly uttered in a deep, guttural voice she had only ever heard him use once before,

"No. Not that side."

She looked at him, his usually bright eyes were now dark, just as they had been the night she sat in his lap and they kissed for the first time. She understood what he wanted her to do— sit with her back to his chest.

Working on pure instinct, she slowly lifted one leg after the other into the tub until she was standing in the bathwater facing him. Tanaruz saw Ivar's chest start to rise and with every quick breath he was taking and she took that as a good sign as she turned and started to lower herself into a sitting position between his legs. She settled into is chest as his arms came around her to rest on either side of the tub.

IVAR

 _Yes. I definitely died and went to heaven._

The Viking prince's heart nearly gave out when his new bride had slowly uncrossed her arms and bared her body to him. Up until then he had only had glimpses and blind outlines from his first night with her. But now she was there. All of her.

And she was all his.

Her perfect breasts tipped with dark brown nipples that ended right above her tapered waist that fit his hands perfectly then flared out to her hips, that were tilted slightly. And all of it colored in the dark honey color of her skin that he loved from the very first moment he saw her.

She moved to sit opposite him in the tub and the idea was so physically painful he blurted out, in a voice deep with lust

"No. Not that side."

He could not just look at her naked and not be able to touch her after. That would be pure torture for him, like placing a feast before a starving man and not letting him eat a morsel.

Ivar nearly moaned when she entered the tub and turned around, giving him a prime view of her round bottom, two perfect spheres he had to resist grabbing.

Tanaruz settled in-between his legs and the small of her back grazed his bradding member for a moment andIvar had to inhale deeply to stay calm.

 _Gods I want to take her in my arms so much. But that might be taking things too fast/_

So Ivar settled for the next best thing and rested his hands on either side of her on the edge of the tub.

The heat from the bath and the heat from each others bodies was making Ivar lightheaded, he could feel the rapid breaths she was taking and they matched his own. His eyes fixated on the delicate curve of her bare shoulder. It was directly in his sight and before he could think too much Ivar moved forward and brushed his lips against her shoulder.

It was the barest touch but he heard the little gasp that escaped his bride's mouth and that pushed Ivar over the edge.

His hands left the tub, his right moving to clasp her jawline and turn her head to bring his lips crashing onto hers and his left grabbing her waist below the water.

TANARUZ

The second Ivar's hands touched her body, every nerve in her skin could feel the heat from his hands and all of the warm water around her body and each droplet of water that slid down the surface of her skin and Ivar's hard member against the small of her back.

She turned around to face so she was kneeling in the tub over Ivar's legs and their kisses grew deeper, their gasps and moans louder and their touches grew more desperate. Just like the night they had run from King Harald they were so wrapped up in each other trying to touch every part of each others bodies, but now with the warm water around them and without any clothes to impede any discoveries.

Ivar's hot mouth had moved to the sweet spot on her neck where it met her shoulder and his hands were grasping and pulling at all of the curves of her waist and her hips and thighs and that alone was enough to make her heart race but it was when his hands ventured to cup her breasts and she felt his rough fingertips slide over her already pert nipples that she threw back her head, arching her chest even further into his greedy hands and moaned.

He then let out a growl that at any other time Tanaruz would have worried about but the heat burning between her own hips matched his passion and he finally broke away from her neck and jerked her back by her biceps and looked at her with his dark, hazy lust-filled eyes and said in a strained, deep voice,

"Get on the bed. Now."

Tanaruz let out a few more pants until she quickly rose from the tub, Ivar's eyes watching her the whole time as she made her way backwards to the bed.

Tanaruz had only just climbed into bed and had turned around when Ivar was suddenly at the foot of the bed crawling his way up.

His hand closed around one of her ankles and he parted her legs.

Kisses were against the inside of her left ankle, the sensitive back of her knee, then the soft inner part of her leg, as Ivar slowly made his way onto the bed and onto her.

The kiss to her inner thigh sent a rush of wetness to her core and her breathing grew even more heavy, Ivar locked eyes with her and planted the softest of kisses to the juncture between her thighs.

"Ahh!" cried Tanaruz and before she could utter another sound he was suddenly face to face, his naked body completely on top of her, his arms enclosing her in their radius and muffling her cries with his mouth on hers.

This kiss was searing in its heat and Tanaruz was practically vibrating with nervousness and excitement, she could feel Ivar's hot and hard cock pressing into her thigh.

The heat between her legs that had been mounting all night was unbearable now, she broke away from the kiss and held Ivar's shoulders as the couple looked each other in the eye. Ivar traced her jawline with his fingertips, moving down from one ear, to her chin moving up, pressing against the soft swollen skin of her lips, down the center of her throat, to the cleft between her breasts, paving the way to her bellybutton and finally his large rough hands found the most intimate part of her.

His deft fingers probed the damp folds of her sex until he brushed up against something that made her whole body jerk and she let out a soft yelp. Ivar quickly returned his hands to either side of her body, much to her disappointment.

Supporting all of his weight on his hands he looked her in the eye again and said between pants,

"If you need me to stop, just tell me."

This made her even more nervous. She had been told at a young age that a girl's first time is often very painful but again she gave into the needing feeling between her hips and nodded her head against his neck and shoulder.

The very tip of Ivar's manhood pressed against the damp lips of her opening and Tanaruz let out a little wimper that was drowned out by the growl and groan of Ivar as he pushed down and sheathed himself inside of her her completely.

A strangled cry left her lips and she gripped his shoulders tighter.

"Gods…you're perfect." Ivar panted out before he began to gently rock in and out of her.

IVAR

No ritual, no battle, no victory had ever felt as good as it did to push himself into his bride.

 _Gods she is so wet and tight and perfect around me._

Her small cries of pain, pained him for a time but they also managed to add to his lust and spurn him on even more. He quickened his pace unable to fight the urge to slam himself into her and soon her cries turned into moans and gasps.

The lush curves of her body soon arched upwards to the rigid angles of his own body and with a few more frantic thrusts he spilled his seed into her.

They remained panting pressed to each other until Ivar realized he might be crushing his new wife and he gently pulled away from her and gathered her limp body into his arms.

 **A.N.**

 **...Please please please forgive me for the delay! Welcome to all of the new followers and thank you so much to those of you that have supported this story despite my crazy updates!**


	22. Chapter 21

TANARUZ

"Are you alright?"

Her husband's voice reached her, muffled through the post-consumation haze she was left in. The newlyweds lie tangled up in one another, skin damp with perspiration and leftover bath water. Tanaruz draped over the right side of Ivar's body, resting her head in the space between his shoulder and neck. She was trying to catch her breath again, but his arms, his right arm wrapped around the back of her neck and the other hand drawling lazy patterns on the side of her ribcage, every so often grazing the sides of her breasts so it made it hard to breath, much less respond.

She continued panting into his shoulder and nodded

"Did I…hurt you?" he breathed out

Tanaruz thought for a moment. It did hurt if she were being completely honest, Ivar was so much bigger, thicker and harder than she was expecting. But after the initial intrusion, when she felt she was being split in half, it eased into something different. The steady thrusts, the heat of their bodies combined, the hot bath water that made their skin slip in the most delicious way all combined to put Tanaruz in a haze and create a bubble of tension between her thighs.

"It hurt a little at first, but not towards the end."

IVAR

Her words fell across his neck and he was so relived by them, he pulled her closer and planted a kiss on the top of her head. His relief stemming not just from the fact that he worried from her moans earlier that he was being too rough with her, but also because he already wanted to do it again.

 _Restrain yourself man. She has already given you so much tonight._

Ivar wrapped his arms around her tighter,

"You should rest now."

Tanaruz nodded again and settled into him.

Ivar wished he could just lie there forever. Lie there and just let himself be a newlywed man, with his young gorgeous bride drifting off to sleep on his chest. Lie there and just enjoy the feeling of her breathing matching his, her soft curves in his hands.

But he was Ivar. Ivar the Boneless, feared of all of the citizens of Kattegat, and yet that reputation wasn't enough to keep Sigurd away from them. After what his brother had done to him that night, tried to do to him, Ivar knew he had made his choice clear.

Ivar wished he could be the good man Tanaruz deserved. The gentle and forgiving man that could wipe out the terrors of her past.

But he was not a gentle man.

He was not a forgiving man.

And if Sigurd had gotten his way tonight, he's be a dead man, and Tanaruz would be left a widow with nothing to her name.

No, the man needed right now was one that would end this once and for all.

He looked down at his bride, gracefully drifting off to sleep.

 _She may come to regret marrying a monster, but this monster needs to keep us both alive. Even if that means killing my own brother._

A.N. hello everyone! I hope you guys like this little scene. I've realized that my depiction of Ivar is very gentle and I've never really strayed toward the darker, more vicious parts of him, so this is sort of an intro into exploring those parts of him and how Tana will react to it. anyway I hope you guys enjoyed, thank you all for the comments and new followers. Also, are you guys loving the new season of the show so far? I sure am! Until next time.


	23. Chapter 22

IVAR

It nearly killed him, but Ivar eventually left his marriage bed. Gently extracting himself, Ivar left the warmth and comfort of Tanaruz's sleeping form. It felt like ripping off his own limbs has be moved out from under hers. The late night air and the moon greeted him as he redressed and made it outside in silence.

This had to end today. Ivar would not have himself and Tanaruz living under the constant threat of his brother for the remaining two weeks they had to remain in Kattegat. The brisk night air was such a change from the heat of the bed he had just abandoned, but Ivar stalked the forest looking for Sigurd.

Ivar knew his brother would have run away after seeing that his attempt on Ivar's life had failed. Sigurd had gone against all of the social rules that governed the Viking people,not only by wrongfully attempting to murder someone who had done no wrong, (on their wedding day no less) but to fail at it was the bigger crime. And the punishment for such a crime… was the blood eagle. Ivar had every legal right to execute it, and he had never been more grateful to Floki for his lessons on Viking ways. After getting a taste for Blood Eagles in England, Ivar had been waiting for a chance to do one on his own. Ivar stopped to wonder if he would feel any remorse in the fact that the first person he would blood eagle would be his own brother. But then Ivar remembered the horrible image of Sigurd drunkenly trying to tie his wife down to a bed, all of the insults he had said to Ivar over the years, and the firm hands on his back earlier that night that shoved him into the lake with no second thought. Sigurd had always insulted Ivar, saying he was not a real man.

 _Well,_ thought Ivar, _real men protect their wives. At all costs._

TANARUZ

The early beams of morning light woke Tanaruz the next day. The Moorish girl took a deep breath and assessed herself and her surroundings. Wisps of cold morning air were creeping in but the shack was warm from the healthy fire burning away, and she was content in her warm nest of furs. She shifted and winced. The warmth at least was helping the slight soreness she felt. Her limbs were tired and it still hurt slightly to move…down there. She blushed, then, quickly remembering the reason for her embarrassment, turn over to find her husband sitting beside her, watching her. When their eyes met, Ivar's lips quietly quirked into a small smile that did not reach his eyes. A myriad of questions went through her mind

 _Why is does he not seem pleased? Is this about last night? Did i not…please him? Is he regretting his decision to tie himself to an outcast who will provide no political advantage at all?_

She took more of him in, in an attempt to find more clues. Her honey colored eyes drifted to Ivar's hands. They rested on his lap, and they were covered with blood.

It covered both sides of his hands and crept up his wrists and forearms. Tanaruz started and sat up in bed. Before she could even think of her next move. Ivar's blood stained hands were tight against her biceps, locking her in place.

"Wha- What happened? What is going on?", Tanarux wasn't sure which questions to ask first. He was not dressed in armor, but a simple linen shirt undone at the top _. He could not have been in a battle then,_ thought Tanaruz.

Her husband hushed her and stroked her arms, which would have been comforting to her if his hands hadn't been caked in blood.

"It is alright. Everything is fine now. You're safe, Tanaruz."

"What? What do you mean? Who's blood is that?"

Ivar hesitated,

"I took care of Sigurd."

Tanaruz considered her next question.

"What does that mean exactly?"

"He's dead."

IVAR

 _Four Hours Earlier_

Finding Sigurd had been easy enough. Years of spying on his brothers had served Ivar well, and Sigurd was never the smartest out of all of the brothers. The coward was hiding in a cave nestled into the mountains that bordered Kattegat. Ivar and the group of loyal men he quickly gathered, rushed the cave and dragged Sigurd out kicking and screaming. Ivar was waiting at the mouth of the cave, and didn't say a word as he was being taken away.

The residents of Kattegat, many of whom were still awake after the wedding celebrations were gathered in the center of town. It took very little explaining for everyone to understand what was going on, and why Sigurd was about to be executed. The rift between the brothers was well known.

As Sigurd was being dragged up to the posts at the center of a raised platform, Ivar thought back to the last time he was here. The night of the sacrifice, when he killed a man in order to protect Tanaruz. The memory only strengthened his resolve to do it again.

Bursting through the crowd came Ubbe and Hviserk. They were slightly tipsy from the wedding and clearly struggling to understand the current situation.

Sigurd saw them, and started struggling more,

"UBBE! HVIZERK! HELP ME! DON'T LET THEM DO THIS!"

"Ivar, what is going on?!" Ubbe, ever the rule-loving eldest, charged up to where Ivar was sitting beside the posts.

Ivar considered for a moment.

"Why don't you ask Sigurd yourself?"

It was Hviskerks turn now to ask the questions, "Is this just another instance of you two going at each other again? What Ivar? Did he make some sort of joke about your wedding night?

Normally comments like that would have wounded Ivar, but he could suppress his rage in memories of his wife's plush thighs, and soft moans.

"As a matter of fact, Sigurd here tried to push me into the lake in front of the shed earlier tonight."

"That cannot be true." Ubbe said, always one to believe that the brothers got along just fine.

"He is lying! Ivar is crazy, you know this!" Sigurd cried.

Ivar found it harder and harder to keep from killing him.

"Tell me Ubbe, can you account for where Sigurd was after the wedding?"

"Well— He was—he…" Ubbe stumbled but not because of drink this time. A look of understanding crossed the faces of both Hvizerk and Ubbe.

"I'll tell you where he was. Our dear brother was stalking me and my new wife through the woods to our new home. As I was about to cross over to join my lovely bride, Sigurd here came hurling out of the woods and shoved me into the water."

A ripple of murmuring rolled through the crowd, and Ubbe and Hvizerk looked at Sigurd horrified and hopeful, as if they were trying their hardest not to believe Ivar's account.

"How do we know this is true?" Hviskerk asked

"Me and those men over there found him hiding in the caves to the north."

"They could be covering the truth for you." Ubbe reasoned.

"Then why was he hiding?"

The brothers took pause at this. Ivar realized his long feud with his brother had made him so unreliable as a source of truth. For a split second he worried that Sigurd would get away with this. The only other person that saw the attack happen was his own wife, another unreliable source. He wondered if this was his punishment for fighting with his own blood for so long. It made him seem unhinged and unreliable enough that now, he would not protect the only thing he ever loved enough to want to protect. Tanaruz.

Just as these bleak thoughts were turning in his head, a thin quiet voice emerged from the tense silence of the crowd.

"He told me he what he was planning."

Everyone turned to see the pale figure of Marguerite. Ivar was just as bewildered as the rest of them to see this otherwise silent slave girl, speaking out against a prince, and in defense of Ivar no less. But then Ivar saw the fading bruises on her face, and started to understand. Sigurd was clearly cruel to her, and she was there the night Sigurd attacked Tanaruz. Perhaps she was tired of working for a tyrant.

"He left the wedding after Ivar and Tanaruz did. He followed them, and was talking about setting things 'right'" Marguerite finished.

Everyone knew as much as Ivar, that she of all people had no reason to help him and that was all the proof he needed.

Ivar performed the blood eagle. The normal sensations he had at the sight of blood were heightened. Ivar was glad he did this the legal way, he needed a new reputation now if he did not want anyone to take up Sigurds torch. But the brutality of a blood eagle make Ivar think people would stay in line. He found that killing someone not just for the fun of it, but to protect someone he loved was all the more enjoyable.

Afterwards, when his brother's remains were being taken away, Ivar sidled up to Marguerite.

"Why did you come to my defense? After our last encounter I figured you would never want to help me."

Margurite looked him in the eyes and said in a strangely strong voice,

"I did nothing that night Sigurd attacked your wife. She looked at me for help and I did nothing. I was not going to do nothing again. She seems like a gentle person, and she could have been a slave like me."

Ivar was surprised at this revelation, but understood. He nodded and turned to walk away when she leaned down and started to wipe the blood from his face.

"No go to your bride Ivar. We are even now."

TANARUZ

 _Back in the shack_

Her breathing was coming in fast now, the panic rising in her chest. She was struggling to ask the right questions and Ivar just kept hushing her. The fact that she was naked did not help the situation she felt exposed and wanted nothing more than answers.

"Stop telling me to relax when you're covered in blood!"

"Well, if we're being honest, I am not the only one with blood on me." Ivar said wryly.

"What?" Tanaruz said, confused.

Ivar made a pointed look down to her thighs.

Oh.

They were smudged with blood from the night before. Tanaruz felt the heat rush her cheeks and fought through the waves of embarrassment.

"That does not change—"

Before she could continue, Ivar's vice-like grip on her arms had tugged her out of bed.

"Come. We'll get you cleaned up." Ivar said, ignoring her protestations and urging her into a tub she hadn't notched before.

Tanaruz plopped into the warm water and before she could rise out, Ivar was on her left side beside the tub and laid a strong hand on her shoulders.

"I'll explain everything." He said in that deep baritone rasp, directly into her left ear.

The sensations of being naked in broad daylight, the warmth of the water and Ivars voice pouring into her ear made her breath come in short pants again.

Ivar picked up a cloth and slowly dipped it into the water. His hand traced further down until his hand and the cloth were submerged and rubbing in-between her thighs.

"Ivar…wha…what happened?" Tanaruz said trying to keep a level head with the sensations she was feeling. Before answering Ivar moved the cloth up to rub against her womanhood, causing Tanaruz to stifle a moan.

"Everything was done legally, I swear. He died in front of a crowd so you can ask them if you don't believe me."

"But—ah" This time she couldn't smother the reaction Ivar got out of her as he started stroking her rhythmically with the cloth and breathing down her neck and face.

"He had to die for what he did. I was not going to let someone that has attacked us both continue living. I protected us. Do you understand?"

"Mmmmm. Yes." she said, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, letting the sensations take over her.

"Say it."

"Wha—ahh! Oh!" Ivar discarded the cloth and was now viciously stroking her with his fingers.

"Say. It."

"You—gah—you protected us, Ivar." She panted out. Suddenly his hands left her and her eyes shot open in confusion. Before she could speak Ivar's lips were on hers, placing a punishing kiss on her lips.

"Get back in bed. Now."

He didn't have to tell her twice.


	24. Chapter 23

**a.n. Ummm, consider this rather STEAMY chapter a celebration of surpassing 100 follows!**

TANARUZ

 _What is happening? I would never obey anyone so easily as I just have._

The Moorish girl pondered her actions as she obediently rose from the bath. The early rays of dawn not yet coming through the mist of the late night, so the room was still caught in a hazy darkness. Her breath was short and her heart pounded fiercely. She could feel Ivar's eyes on her the whole time, and this filled her with the strangest blend of nervousness and boldness. She had never know herself to have this effect on a man. Testing her limits, she made her movements languid and slow, making sure to accentuate the sway of her hips as she moved. Each step was deliberate, testing her boundaries, and waiting for a response from Ivar.

And he responded.

IVAR

 _She's doing this on purpose._

She had to be moving that way on purpose. Ivar's eyes were glued to his wife's hips as she made her way to the bed at the most glacial pace.

 _This is absolute torture. I might just have to make her pay for this._

"Wait." he ground out in this new deep voice he had never used before. It was full of want and need and clearly had an effect on Tanaruz. Instantly those hypnotic hips stopped and she stood before their bed.

TANARUZ

 _That voice should scare me. It would take any sane mind aback. But right now my mind is not sane. Right now my mind is focused on this man. This man, that is now moving away from the tub where he just touched me most indecorously. Heavens, the way he was talking to me. Growling in my ear. My mind is most certainly not sane. A sane mind wouldn't have wanted him to keep touching me the way he was. A sane mind would not look at him climbing onto the bed and sitting on its edge like he is now, with his cock hardening before my eyes and feel nothing but want. No fear but the fear of this moment ending. A sane mind would not look at his hands, with some remnants of blood on them, and want them on every inch of her skin. A sane mind would look at the cut across his chest that was still healing and shy away. A sane mind would not look at the water droplets on that same chest and want to lick them dry, one by one._

 _No.I must not be sane._

IVAR

His wife now stood before him, as he sat at the end of their bed. She was within arms length and Ivar pondered his next move. All of him wanted to grab her, and pin her down to the bed and not leave for days.

Instead he decided to reach out and take her by those hips that had brought them there. Her mouth parted the moment his fingers made contact with her skin. He ran his hands from her hips down to the back of her thighs. His large hands grasping one each and pulling her in-between his legs.

Her soft hands reached out to lightly touch his jawline and broke his previous restraint.

In a flash his hands left her thighs to spin her around and pull her onto his lap, with her back to his chest.

TANARUZ

She gasped swiftness and firmness of Ivar's movements. However, when one of his hands drifted to her grasp her breast, and the other traveled up the inside of her thigh, she decided this was a position she rather liked.

his wet hands slid over her wet skin, kneading her breast and expertly exploring the space between her thighs. His lips were at her neck and she could feel his hot breath on her sensitive skin. Tanaruz tilted her head back against his shoulder to give him better access and let out a satisfied humm. Her hips started moving of their own accord and she could feel Ivars cock against her back growing harder every second.

Ivars mouth left her neck and shudders and he rasped into her ear, in that voice that drove her crazy,

"I lied."

"What?" she panted out "What lie?"

"When I sked you to marry me, I said we would never have to do _everything_ expected of a married couple."

He punctuated the word "everything" with a fierce stroke against her dampening folds and Tanaruz let out another moan and arched further against him.

"Things…like this you mean?" she gasped out

"Yes. I led. Because I want this. I've wanted it from the moment I met you. do you want it too?"

His ministrations had gotten more intense how, with his fingers puling on her nipples and stroking her faster. Tanaruz could only make yelps and gasps.

"Say it. Say you want this too."

It finally became too much for her and she struggled to say what she knew all along.

"I…I do. I do, Ivar."

It all became so clear to her in a moment. All of the feelings he had be unsure of or denying , came into focus. She loved this man. Emboldened by her revelation, Tanaruz role free of Ivar's strong hands and turned around to face him. His shock gave her the mounts to shove his broad shoulders back so he was lying on the bed. He looked at her expectantly and started to creep backwards as she knelt over his legs and moved forward. The couple didn't break eye contact and when there was finally no more room on the bed to move and they were eye to eye, Tanaruz bent down to kiss her husband. She poured all of her need and love into the kiss and soon Ivar's hands had grabbed her hips and rolled them both over so she was pinned under him.

His hands slid up from her waist to the sides of her torso, up her arms until they clasped her hands. He treaded his finders through hers and pinned her arms above her head.

As much as Tanaruz wanted to touch him, the dominance of his grip was too much and he was lined up to her soaking wet center.

"Say it again."

"I wan—"

Before she could even finish, his hips thrusted upward and they were joined again. The previous night, Ivar had been gentle with her. But this time, the want they had built up for each other was too much. The indecorous sound of flesh on flesh filled the room along with their pants and moans. Ivar was moving at a punishing pace but she found she not only enjoyed it but was moving her hips to meet his thrusts. All of the teasing and touching combined with the fact that she was pleasurably not in control due to him holding down her hands, was all building up inside of her. The desperate need she had for him, was reflected in him and his equally desperate movements. She felt the familiar bubble of pressure build up in her pelvis and finally with one particularly hard thrust from Ivar it burst. She cried out so loud it felt as though all of Kattegat would hear. Every cell in her body came alive and she arched up into his chest. Ivar must have been pleased with his work since he followed not long after, grunting his release before relaxing and again gathering her slick, limp body to his chest.

The couple stayed this way for a tie, panting, grasping each other. Tnaaruz finding she loved the sore, used feeling, the sinful delight as she could feel her own wetness and Ivar's seed peeking out of her cunt. Finally her husband broke the silence.

"Oh I almost forgot" Ivar pulled a ring she had not noticed before off of his pinky finger.

"I had this made for you after the blood eagle. An improvement from the thread wuldnt you say?"

He took her hand again and slid a simple twisted silver band onto her finger.

Tanaruz tried to contain her elation as she said "I didn't know Viking women wore wedding rings."

"They don't traditionally. But I wanted something for you to wear that showed everyone you are mine."

Tanaruz snuggled closer to his chest, "I'm yours, Ivar." And the couple fell back asleep in the early morning haze.

 **a.n.**

 **We reached over 100 follows, thank you to everyone new and everyone thats been here since the beginning! Thank you for your patience, I hope this chapter was worth the wait!**


	25. Chapter 24 (Fixed)

A.N. so sorry for the long wait and the glitch!

IVAR

Ivar awoke soon after drifting off to sleep, Tanaruz curled into his chest. After that rather erotic interlude he just had with his wife the young man contemplated feelings of satisfaction and ecstasy, and those of anxiety over whether or not he got a little too carried away with his passions. Ovarall, Ivar worried if he was too intense for any woman for that matter. But despite the fact that Ivar had returned to his bride last night covered in his own brothers blood, she still wanted him as much as he wanted her.

The Viking prince put his insecurities aside for a moment and realized they had whiled away most of the morning. Usually his days consisted of morning training with his brothers, lessons with Floki following lunch and spending his evenings studying battle strategies amidst his brothers lascivious nighttime activities.

But he was married now, and one brother short.

 _How would life change?_

He had never given much thought to how his new wife would fit into his life since they were so preoccupied up until now with how to remain safe enough to reach this point.

 _Speaking of which… I should probably start today with checking on the two remaining brothers I do have. I doubt they wanted to train like normal this morning but I should check anyway._

Ivar stole one last glance at his sleeping wife, her face still slightly flushed from their previous activities, stroked her curves one last time before gently untangling himself from her side. And setting off to find his remaining brothers.

TANARUZ

The young Moorish girl opened her eyes to the mid-afternoon sun streaming in through the small window of her new home. Tanaruz's eyes adjusted to her surroundings where she quickly ascertained that her new husband was not in bed with her. The young bride's heart sank a little at his absence but decided it might be for the best since she had no idea how to act around him after their previous…

 _encounter?…. what exactly do you call making love to your new husband after he reveals to you that he just murdered his own brother?_

These conflicting thoughts swam in her mind as she realized he must have gone to see the fallout of his actions were with his family.

 _And how can I dwell on such things on this lovely morning? Wait…it must be nearing afternoon!_

Looking out at the mess of their small cottage Tanaruz realized she had overslept with so many things to look after, despite their small lodgings. There water all over the floor from the bathtub, clothes strewn everywhere, Ivar's bloody clothes that needed to be washed and her own wedding presents that needed to be placed away.

Wanting to waste no more time, the Moorish girl hastily plucked up the first item of clothing she could find, one of Ivar's tunics that fell to her knees, and set about righting their new household. If she could not make sense of the tempest of emotions in her heart, she could at least see to it that their new life got off to a good start.

IVAR

Twilight was breaking as Ivar made his way back home. His mission that morning was to find is brothers and try to mend whatever was left go their relationship after what he had done. However, when Ivar went to their training ground that morning he found the meadow undisturbed.

Ivar instead trekked to Floki's house, knowing his new father-in-law would have words of advice for him. He found his mentor putting the finishing touches on the ships that would take the group to England. Floki saw Ivar approach and much to Ivar's relief, the same kind eyes met his over the keel of a longship. Floki was one person Ivar could count on to never look at him the way some in Kaatagat did, with fear, trepidation, pity or judgment.

Falling back into their old routine, Ivar and Floki quickly began speaking and Ivar finally aired out his feeling that had been brewing overnight. He admitted that he was disappointed at not seeing his brothers despite knowing it would take longer for them to forgive his actions. But a part of him did hope that they could understand his choices and see that he was simply protecting his new wife and himself for that matter.

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you I do understand your reasons for punishing Sigrid?" Floki asked casually after letting Ivar speak his peace.

"What?"

"That boy was always going to be a problem for you, ever since you were young you two have butted heads. Something needed to happen to end it eventually. The rest of Kattagat must remember the two of you going at it all these years, especially your two remaining brothers. They'll soon come around so there is no use in worrying your little princely head off on it." Floki said with a nonchalance that oddly gave Ivar confidence in what his mentor was saying.

"Besides", continued Floki "you leave for England in a few days time, so really you timed it quite well, my dear Ivar." The two men laughed and most of the worry in Ivar's heart subsided. They spent the rest of the day making final arrangements for the ships and the oncoming journey until finally Floki said,

"Now get your crippled arse back to your new wife. She'll think an angry mob got to you if you stay any longer."

And thus, Ivar found himself returning home to his wife for the first time in what he could only hope would be a long life of returning home to her.

Clothes were hanging on a line outside and a steady stream of smoke was piping out of their chiming giving their small lodgings a homely feeling that Ivar knew he could get used to.

He swung open the door to find another sight he could also get used to. His new wife was bustling around their small home wearing nothing but one of his tunics. The borrowed garment did little to cover her shapely thighs and barely covered her rounded bottom. She was a picture of cosy, sexy domestic bliss with the sunset through the window behind her and the fire inside lighting up her honey skin.

 _Had I know this was waiting for me I would have flown hom from Floki's._

His wife noticed his arrival and greeted him with a gentle smile.

"There you are" she said "I had wondered if I lost my new husband the day after I married him" she said returning to her work of finishing up their supper.

Ivar had to use everything in him not to melt into a puddle of flesh at her use of the word "husband" and he was left there stuck by her new confidence and easy, teasing conversation with him. He finally regained his composure and made his way into their home.

"I'm sorry wife, but if we're to have any chance at a serious conversation you'll need to put some real clothes on.

This caused the Moorish girl to blush in the most beautiful way and the two chuckled for a moment before they both sat down to their very first diner together as a couple, finally alone and private within their own little world.


End file.
